I Just Wanna Be Okay
by Toni42
Summary: Spiderman trembled, backing away from the Science-Doctor who promised to make him 'better.' His heart hammered as blood coated the hand against his wound. "Stay away." CONTINUATION OF ONE-SHOT "Sometimes 'Okay' is Better" BY Zharlee. I HAVE PERMISSION.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, people! This is my first Avengers and Spiderman story, both of which I just got into last month (November, 2015), and both of which I've been reading fanfiction about, mainly the crossover. Anyway, I had come across a one-shot called _Sometimes 'Okay' is Better_ and it was unlikely to be put into a full story, even though it was FANTASTIC.**

 **Anyway, after reading it for the third time, I finally PM'd the author, Zharlee, and asked if I could continue it for her. She said I could. So, here it is!**

 **This first chapter here is just copied from Zharlee's one-shot and, besides fixing a couple spelling mistakes, I do not own it nor do I claim to. But chapter two and onward is all mine, except for the idea that started the story, of course.**

 **Not only am I hopping to make the other fans of Zharlee's one-shot happy, as well as others who haven't read it, I'm hopping that this will get me back into writing more often.**

 **Okay, so sit back, relax, and enjoy! Those who have already read _Sometimes 'Okay' is Better_ can skip this chapter if they so wish, since only very few things are different. Enjoy!**

* * *

"Spidey, Spidey, c'mon." a metallic voice called, "Are you awake? I can't tell if you're awake with those stupid eye-lenses in the way."

Spiderman cracked open an eyelid as someone laid a heavy, metal hand on his shoulder. A red and gold suit of armor knelt in front of him. He knew it, but couldn't think of where he knew it from. His spidey sense was buzzing. Why was it buzzing?

Spiderman moved to push himself up, then moaned and folded in on himself as pain exploded through his stomach. His eyes squeezed shut again behind his lenses. Something warm and wet soaked through his costumes sleeves as he wrapped his arms around his middle tightly.

"Shit, yeah, okay, don't move." the metallic voice panicked, "JARVIS, dammit, get Bruce."

A different, muffled voice sounded from within the armor. The first voice snapped something back but he couldn't make it out. He heard a brief whir and a click before the first voice started again, but without the metallic edge.

"Okay, Spidey, new plan. Bruce is at the Tower, so I'm gonna fly you back there, okay? I'd call an ambulance, or a S.H.I.E.L.D. medic, but there's your whole secret identity thing," It rambled. "So we're gonna take care of this ourselves. You still with me here?"

Spiderman groaned as his body was jostled and lifted off the ground by two metal arms. The same whir and click sound repeated itself, and a _fwoosh_ started from the bottom of the armors boots before it took off. Spiderman cried out when the sensation of his stomach dropping sent another stab of pain through his abdomen. His body curled into a tighter ball as the wind rushed past them.

 _Peter's stomach churned as his dad called him into the basement, slowly making his way down the stairs. His dad wanted him to try a new medicine he and the other Science-Doctors were working on. They had been sticking to testing it on pets before now, naming them 'Subjects' and keeping notes on what happened after the injections. The Guinea-Pig with ribs sticking out was 'Subject 49,' and the half bald rat that kept biting itself was 'Subject 68.'_

 _Peter was 'Patient 1.'_

 _Peter's dad, Richard, told him that they were trying to make the subjects stronger and better, so they wouldn't get sick anymore. Now he said they were ready to test it on him._

 _His dad looked up from a clipboard he was holding, and gestured to the metal table in the middle of the room._

Spiderman panted as the Armor landed on the roof of a skyscraper. It immediately began striding forwards, carrying him into the buildings elevator. He removed a hand from his wound, raising it to see it was covered in red.

"JARVIS, floor 52." the Armor barked.

The doors closed and the floor dropped from underneath them. Spiderman let his hand fall with a whimper.

 _"Of course, sir_."

Spiderman jolted in surprise at the unexpected voice. He craned his head around, trying to see the new person, but saw no one. The elevator stopped and the doors opened into a lab. The sharp smell of antiseptic hit his nose.

A thin man was waiting anxiously inside, next to an empty metal table. "Everything's ready. Set him down here, Tony."

 _"Climb up here, Pete." his dad instructed. Peter nodded and stepped on his footstool so he could pull himself up properly._

 _"Arms up." Richard said, once Peter had gotten seated. Peter raised his arms obediently, so his dad could tug his shirt over his head._

 _He flinched as Richard started attaching cold wires to his chest, pegging something onto his fingers. A sound started to beep in time with his heart._

"No, no, don't." Spiderman protested, tensing in the Armor's arms. He wiggled in the Armor's restrictive embrace, grunting as it continued forward.

"Hey, hey, easy, Spidey." the Armor said, "Calm down, Bruce is a friend, okay? He'll have you up and running in no time, better then ever."

Spiderman's heart kicked into high gear at the word. Better.

He struggled to get more space between him and the lab-coat wearing man. "No!" he yelled. "No, I won't." He thrashed again, twisting out of the Armors grip. The movement tore a new wave of pain through his abdomen when he hit the floor. His knee's buckled, and he wrapped an arm protectively around his waist. He jerked as the Armor tried to catch him, pushing himself back against a wall. No way was he letting that Science-Doctor near him.

 _"Richard, the equipment's ready." the older, male Science-Doctor addressed his dad._

 _"Good. Peter, hold still for me please." Richard said. "Tell me if you feel any discomfort once the trial starts."_

 _"I'm cold and I'm about to be shot. Does that count?" Peter muttered, as Richard swabbed his elbow where the I.V. would go._

 _Richard aimed a warning look in Peter's direction, before_ _he released the boys elbow to grab the end of the I.V. line. Peter scrunched up his eyes and looked away as Richard carefully inserted it into his vein._

"You're bleeding out, Web-Head. We're trying to help here." the Armor insisted.

"I'm not qualified as a medical doctor, but I have experience tending to sick or injured patients-" the Science-Doctor began, but Spiderman cut him off.

"No." he hissed through clenched teeth. He wasn't a patient. He wouldn't let anyone make him into one again.

The Science-Doctor frowned briefly, before the Armor took over again. "You can't go to a normal hospital and S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn't pass up the chance to see under that mask." It argued, "You don't have a choice here, bug."

Spiderman growled to hide the way his breathing quickened in response to the threat. He glared at his captors from behind his one-way lenses.

"Tony." the Science-Doctor scolded.

"What? Well, he doesn't!" the Armor defended itself, waving an accusing gauntlet in Spiderman's direction. "We aren't letting him leave like that!"

The Science-Doctor pinched the skin under the bridge of his glasses and exhaled slowly, before turning his attention to Spiderman. Spiderman growled louder.

"At least let me see the wound before we consider letting you go." the Science-Doctor requested firmly.

"Right, stop being an idiot and let us help." the Armor added. "Or JARVIS will call the other Avengers in to hold you down for a sedative."

 _"Patient is ready for trial." Richard announced, stepping back into his flat Science-Doctor mode. The other Science-Doctors turned to the screens on their machines._

 _"Starting the I.V. now, sir." the younger, female Science-Doctor said._

 _Peter opened his eyes as Richard turned his focus to the zig-zagging line that represented his pulse. The red number next to the heart symbol was slightly higher then normal, Peter knew, but it always raced a little when he had to take needles. He determinedly refused to look at the spot where the needle was leaking fluid underneath his skin. It was starting to itch._

"Stay-Stay away from me." Spiderman hissed. He let go of his stomach and slapped a wet, red-stained hand on the wall behind him, microscopic hairs on his fingertips attaching themselves to it. His neck and spine tingled, hair bristling, as his spidey sense protested against fighting. He clenched his jaw against a pained noise that threatened to escape as he hauled himself upright.

"Don't c-come near me."

The Science-Doctor held up his gloved hands peaceably, keeping his expression carefully neutral. "I just want to help. Let me see the wound."

"No!" Spiderman snapped, aiming a web-shooter at the Science-Doctors face. The Science-Doctor's eyes widened in shock, before the Armor blocked him from view.

 _"Sir, I've informed Captain Rogers of the situation. He is on his way down now with the other Avengers."_ the Voice spoke.

Captain Rogers.

Spiderman tensed instinctively. He knew that name. The Super Soldier, pinnacle human perfection.

The elevator door opened and the Soldier, it was him, Captain Rogers, stepped in, followed by another heavily muscled blond, a well-armed woman and a purple-vested man. The Soldiers eyes flickered across the room and filled with concern when he took in the stand-off between Spiderman and the Armor. They rested on Spierman's injury, then lifted up to focus on his raised web-shooter.

Spiderman's legs trembled as he let go of the wall to aim his second web-shooter at the Super Soldier.

"Stay away."

 _"Dad, I don't wanna do this." Peter pleaded, as the itch spread its way down to his hand and wound its way back slowly._

 _"This will make you better, Peter. You'll be so much stronger soon." his dad promised him. "Think of how fast you will be next time you race Harry."_

 _"I don't care about beating Harry." Peter insisted desperately. "I feel fine, I don't need anything to make me better."_ _The itch was growing hot and spreading further along his shoulder, scaring Peter and forcing his heart beat to quicken._

 _"But you will be better, Pete. Stronger then even Captain Rogers was." Richard told him._

Spiderman's eyes were desperate behind his eye-lenses, as he assessed the men in front of him. He couldn't fight the Armor and the Soldier, or the others. He needed to get away, but the exit was blocked. He was trapped. Cornered like an animal. He had to get away. He needed an escape.

His chest heaved and his legs wobbled like jelly beneath him. Pain almost drove him back down, but Spiderman refused to fall. If he got the chance, he'd run. He could do this. His spidey sense was screaming at him, but the warning was unnecessary. He couldn't trust them. He'd get out. Find an escape and take it. He could hold on just a little longer. Long enough to get away.

 _"Dad, please." Peter begged._

 _"Just a little longer, son. You won't have to take anymore needles once this works." Richard attempted to reassure him._

 _"Sir, the subject's heart rate is increasing." the younger Science-Doctor warned._

 _Peter's arm was aching and beginning to swell. There was a tight, painful feeling building up in his chest and his breathing was getting shallower. The heart rate monitor was beeping more and more rapidly._

 _"Dad, it hurts." Peter whimpered._

 _Richard hesitated, glancing between the computer screens and his son. "Where does it hurt, Peter?"_

"Spiderman, stand down." the Soldier ordered firmly. "You're safe, son, but you need treatment."

"We won't take off the mask, kid." the Purple-Vest promised. "We understand the need for secrets."

Spiderman's hands trembled, but he kept his web-shooters aimed at them. The Science-Doctors fingers twitched like he wanted to move forward, and Spiderman's head snapped towards him, away from the Soldier. The movement made him sway dizzily and his vision blur momentarily.

"You need to keep pressure on your wound, there's nothing there to stop the bleeding." the Science-Doctor pleaded.

The Soldier took a careful step closer and Spiderman fired a web.

 _The heart monitor was racing now and Peter's breath came out in small bursts._

 _"The I.V. is nearly complete, Dr. Parker." the older Science-Doctor said. "A little discomfort from the patient was to be expected."_

 _Peter was struggling to breath, as he locked pleading eyes onto his dad. "M-My che-ehst." he gasped. "Cah-Can't breathe."_

 _"Shh, Pete, just a little more." Richard cajoled, reached out to stroke his hair. Peter shook his head frantically, tears streaming down his face._

 _"N-No." Peter sobbed raggedly. Letting go of his chest, Peter fumbled for the I.V. line, trying to rip it out. Richard's hands closed around his wrists before he could reach._

The Soldier ducked as the web flew past and lunged forward to grab his wrist, forcing the web-shooter down. Spiderman flailed, howling his distress and clawing at the Soldiers fingers.

The other Blond leaped forward to seize his free arm, pulling it behind him. Spiderman lashed out, kicking his legs in a desperate attempt to get them off, then screamed, falling limp and gasping as the movement sent pain through his stomach like hot daggers.

"Man of Spiders, calm yourself." the Blond boomed. "You're among friends and comrades who seek to make you better."

Spidermans eyes stung as he tried to pull his arm back to warp around his stomach. No. He didn't want that. He didn't want to be better. He couldn't. It hurt. It hurt too much and he couldn't. He just couldn't. He tried to throw his weight back up, a sob tearing through his lips as the agonizing movement failed to dislodge them.

"N-No, I-I can't-" Spiderman pleaded. "Don't- Don't do it, I-"

 _"Plea-Please." Peter choked out._

 _"Shh, Pete, it'll get better soon. You'll be better soon." Richard promised._

 _Peter's skin burned as his throat swelled. His lungs whistled as he struggled to drag air into them. Peter started a wail that was broken up by chocked sobs and weak gasps. He kicked and fought to try and rip his arms from his dads hold. His hands closed into fists, but he couldn't shake off his fathers hold._

"Please please, let go. Let go, just let go. I-I can't, please." Spiderman begged, thrashing. "I can't, I don't want to-"

"Spidey, calm down, you're safe, son." the Soldier grunted, tightening his hold. "We're going to make you better."

Spiderman flailed wildly, trying to pull his arms free, only to yelp as the action wrenched on his wound. The Armor leaped forward and two cold, metal hands clamped down on his right leg, the Woman and Purple-Vest jumping forwards to grab his left one. They lifted him up and began carrying him towards the metal table.

"No! No, let go, let me go! I can't, I cuh-can't! Let go, just let go!" Spiderman chanted desperately.

 _"The I.V. is finished." one of the Science-Doctors announced._

 _"G-Get it ow-out!" Peter cried._

 _"Alright, Peter. You've done very well." Richard said calmly, looking over at the older Science-Doctor. "Remove the I.V., please."_

 _Peter kept sobbing as the older Science-Doctor stepped forward to remove the I.V. His skin didn't stop burning and the beeping was still rapid._

 _"We should be seeing a change by now." the younger Science-Doctor fretted, wringing her hands together nervously. "We need to get results on this trial, we used the last of our funding on-"_

 _"It's still making its way through his system." Richard said. "There's time left for it too work."_

 _"Huh-elp." Peter gasped, dragging in another breath as his struggles to escape Richards grip grew more feeble._

 _Richard sighed. "Give him a shot to relax his throat."_

"Hold him down while I administer a sedative." the Science-Doctor ordered.

They gently placed him onto the table, still gripping his struggling limbs tightly. A shiver wracked his body and traveled down his spine as the cold metal seeped through the thin spandex that was his costume.

"No, no-no-no, don't. Don't do it, please, I can't, please. Stop, stop, I don't want it. No, no, let go, let GO!" Spiderman babbled, panicking.

The Science-Doctor held a bottle, which he used to fill up a large syringe in his other hand. The needle gleamed as he pulled it free.

 _The younger Science-Doctor picked up a new needle, but made no move to use it. "Our agency expects results! If we can't produce them, they'll get rid of us. What are you going to tell them if this doesn't work?"_

 _"If it doesn't work, I have a plane ticket out of the country for tonight." Richard stated emotionlessly. "You can tell them whatever you want."_

 _Peter's heart leaped into his clogged throat and he strained to move his arms so he could hang onto his dad, but he couldn't break free._

The Science-Doctor hurried towards him, needle raised in his direction. Spiderman's heart hammered in his ribcage, chest rising and falling rapidly. He thrashed and twisted, metal gauntlets cutting into his leg and hands tightening painfully on his other limbs.

"Shh-Shh, Spidey, it's okay, son. This is going to make you feel better, okay?" the Soldier told him.

Son. His father had lied, hurt him when he said he was going to make him better. The Soldier wouldn't fool him too. "Liar! Stay bah-ack. Stay away, GO! Go away!" Spiderman screamed.

 _"Duh-don', don' hu-ooh." Peter's tears were streaming down his chin and pooling in his eyes so he could barely see. He blinked his wet eye-lashes furiously to try and see his fathers face. His body was beginning to shut down, limbs shaking with exhaustion, the beeps slowing down as his struggles ceased. He slumped forward against his fathers chest, attempting to seek comfort._

 _"You're just planning to leave if the patient fails to accept the enhancements?" the older Science-Doctor growled. Richard released Peter's wrists, allowing him to surge forward and squeeze him in a weak hug._

Spiderman's limbs trembled in his captors grasps, exhaustion and pain wracking his body. He tried to yank his arms and legs free, but this only caused their grips to tighten until it began to hurt. He kept writhing away as the Science-Doctor came closer.

"DON'T!" Spiderman sobbed out, contorting his body as far away from the needle as he could while restrained. The Science-Doctor hesitated, syringe hover above him, skin appearing almost green in the harsh laboratory lights.

"He's lost too much blood already, Banner, just do it!" said the Woman.

"Give him the needle before he tears that wound up even more!" Purple-Vest snarled.

 _"If you want the patient to survive the trial, I suggest giving him the injection before his throat closes." Richard remarked, absently stroking Peter's hair._

 _The younger Science-Doctor jolted like she'd completely forgotten about the needle in her hands. Then she rushed forward to stab Peter's arm, ignoring his sobbing as she pushed the end of the needle slowly, injecting him with it's substance._

The Science-Doctor jumped and brought the needle down, the end sinking into Spiderman's flesh. He slowly plunged the syringes lever down, as Spiderman howled and struggled against him. The Science-Doctor removed it quickly as soon as it was empty of liquid.

Spiderman chocked wretchedly as the injection was finished. Shudders and sobs tormenting his wound and the fight leaving his body as defeat finally set it. It was in him, he couldn't stop it now. The spandex was clinging to him where blood stuck it to his skin.

"It's alright. We'll take care of you, just relax. It'll all be over soon." the Soldier said. "You'll be better before you know it."

Spiderman whimpered in response. That was exactly what he was afraid of.

"Aye, you're in good hands, Man of Spiders. Sleep. Let us help."

 _Peter's broken gasps and wheezes gradually evened out until he was just sobbing quietly into Richard's lab coat. The beeping settled into a slow rhythm, as Peter's trembling lessened. Richard sighed again, pinching the soft baby fat on_ _Peter's upper arm._

 _"No improvement in Patient One's muscle tone." Richard noted out loud. "Another failure. You won't be better after all, Peter."_

Spidermans breathing was still labored, but each breath felt slower and heavier then the last. His chest was falling into a gradually steadying rhythm, his heart beat becoming quieter. He trembled as the adrenaline faded, leaving only weariness and pain.

Spiderman's limbs felt like lead and he tried to jerk one back as they cut away the scraps of his costume, but it barely twitched in response. Part of his mind demanded he move, that he fight. The rest knew he'd already lost. So why wasn't his blood burning?

"No more." he slurred.

 _Peter's eyelids felt heavy and he had to work to open them enough to look at his father. He used what felt like the last of his strength to raise his tear-streaked face._

 _"I don't wanna be better." Peter slurred tiredly. "I don't wan' anymore needles."_

 _"That was the last one, Peter. The experiments finished." Richard answered._

"It's alright, Spidey, just rest. We'll take care of everything else. Rest." someone soothed him. The pressure weighing him down lessened, and his captors grips loosened cautiously. His eyes fluttered closed. He couldn't sleep, shouldn't stop fighting, but the numb feeling that spread through him offered safety.

 _"I don' wanna have ta be better, daddy." Peter insisted. "I just' wanna be okay."_

 _His fingers slackened around his fathers coat, as the beeping continued sluggishly. "No more needles." Peter mumbled, as his eyes finally slid shut. "Jus' wanna be okay."_

"You're going to be fine, Spidey. I promise you'll be okay."

* * *

 **FINALLY! This took FOREVER to copy! Mostly because I've got these buttons on either side of the up-arrow key that go to previous pages. Sounds handy, and it is, but not when you're working on something and while using the arrow-keys to scroll up and down you accidentally press one of those buttons and you have to start all over again. This happened, like, three times. I ended up having to save the page every three minutes just in case.**

 **Anyway, I'll probably be working on the next chapter immediately and it may or may not be posted at the same time as this one. I think that's what I'm gonna do... anyway, hope you enjoyed and thanks Zharlee for letting me do this :)**


	2. Chapter 2

Captain Rogers felt as though his heart had just been torn in two.

Spiderman- who looked _so_ much younger in person, especially after what had just happened mere seconds ago- lay unconscious on the table in one of Tony Stark's many labs, as Bruce stripped away the top of his costume and began treating the wound, the other Avengers hovering close by encase he needed anything.

"What happened to him?" Steve asked, turning to Tony, who had finally taken off his Iron Man armor.

"I-I don't know, actually." Tony admitted, running a hand through his dark hair with a weary sigh. "I'd gone out for a fly, as you know, and he was just stumbling along an empty street. I flew down to see if he was alright and say hey- we've met once before- and he kind of just collapsed."

"It's a stab wound." Bruce spoke up, not looking up from his patient. "A pretty bad one, too. Multiple, actually. At least six. Clint, get me the stitches."

"He was stabbed _six times_?" Steve gasped. "And he was still conscious, _alive_ even, this whole time?"

"I think he was a bit disoriented." Natasha said, crossing her arms over her chest. "He was confused and probably had no idea where he was. He probably didn't even know who you where, Stark."

"Is he going to be okay?" Tony asked, turning to Bruce, who had finished cleaning the bloody wound and was now sewing the skin back together. The ruined, bloody spandex that had covered Spidermans upper-body lay forgotten on the floor at the tables feet.

"He'll be fine. All that thrashing around made the wound worse, but I've fixed up the internal bleeding. He'll be out for a while though, but otherwise he'll make a full recovery." Bruce assured.

"Physically, at least." Clint muttered. Bruce sighed, but did not deny it.

"What should we do with him?" Natasha asked.

"Keep him here, of course." Tony said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "He's unconscious, injured and we need to ask him _how_ he'd been injured. Spiderman isn't taken down that easily, that's for sure, so he's either losing his touch or the guy that did this to him was really powerful."

"Well, we can't keep him in here." Bruce pointed out. "Not after that episode."

"Will he be comfortable on the couch?" Thor boomed, causing Tony, who'd been standing right next to him, to wince.

"It'll probably be a bit overwhelming to wake up in the Avengers living room." Clint drawled.

"He can stay in one of the guest rooms." said Tony.

"I'll stay with him." Steve said, taking a hesitant step forward, watching as Bruce wrapped thick bandages around Spiderman's stomach. "Encase he wakes up."

* * *

Everything hurt. His arms, his legs, his chest, his head, his stomach- oh god, _his stomach_. It felt as if it was on fire. Wait, was it? He wasn't sure.

Spidey swallowed, trying to wet his dry throat, and opened his crusty eyelids. He blinked, trying to focus his blurry gaze. He laid there for almost a full minute until his eyes finally focused, revealing to him a large bedroom. He lay in a double bed with a soft quilt pulled up to his chin, his head against the softest pillow he'd ever touched. A desk with a PC was against the far wall, a bookshelf with two full shelves, a chest of drawers and the wall to the left wasn't a wall at all, but a window, giving him an impressive view of New York. It looked around early morning.

Where was he and how did he get here?

Blinking, Spidey slowly sat up, his arms trembling beneath his weight. He looked down at his stomach and suddenly realized he was shirtless, apart from the thick bandages wrapped around his entire stomach. He picked up the blanket to make sure he wasn't completely naked and, to his relief, discovered he was still wearing the bottom-part of his Spiderman costume. He also had his mask on, thank god.

Then he heard the beeping.

His heart froze in his chest and his breath caught in his throat. His hands began shaking and he squeezed his eyes shut as memories from long ago flashed before his eyes. He took a deep, shaky breath in a desperate attempt to calm himself.

Ever so slowly, he turned his head towards the beeping and forced himself to open his eyes. An I.V. stand stood on the side of the bed, the green line spiking in sync with his heart slowly going faster and faster. His eyes followed the I.V. line from the plastic baggie, under the beds covers and right to the needle in his elbow.

His breaths coming out in ragged gasps, Spidey fumbled with the I.V., his fingers shaking horribly as they closed around the end and yanked it out. He threw the needle away from him, accidentally making it go right through the I.V. stand's screen, shutting it down before it could even begin blaring loudly.

Spidey sat there, starring at the wretched machine, before he forced himself out of the comfy bed, ignoring the burning pain that spread through his stomach. There were large, purple bruises on his arms and from the way his legs ached he was pretty sure there was some on them too.

So desperate was he to get away from the I.V., however, that his foot caught on the blanket, making him fall off the bed, taking the covers with him, landing in a messy and very painful heap. He gasped loudly, tears stinging his eyes and pain flared throughout his entire body.

A chair squeaked and hurried footsteps came his way from around the bed. Spidey's eyes snapped open again (when had he closed them?) and he was scrambling to his feet as he looked up to see Captain America making his way towards him, wearing civilian clothes and a face twisted into concern.

"Hey, hey, be careful." the Soldier said, as Spidey almost fell over to get his foot untangled from the blankets. "You don't want to tear open your stitches."

He made to move forward and help him, but Spidey flinched violently, stumbling backwards and leaning against the window. Cars honking could be heard from far bellow.

"Easy, Spidey." Rogers said, raising his hands as you would when approaching an injured animal. "No one's going to hurt you."

Spiderman forced himself to even his ragged breathing, but it did little help. He reached behind him, looking blindly for something that will open the window. "L-Look, I appreciate the help-" he licked his lips, a tiny part of his brain realizing he was speaking to one of his idols. His hand closed around one of those twist and open window handles. "B-But I-I, er, I really need to get going..."

"You're injured." Rogers said firmly. "And your way of transportation will likely reopen that wound. At least come and have some food and one of us can drive-"

"No!" Spidey said, heart jumping into his throat. He lowered his voice, heat rising to his cheeks. Thank you, mask. "N-No. I-I'll be fine by myself, thanks-" He twisted the handle, flinging the window open. His leg was already halfway out when a hand- gentle but firm- clasped around his upper arm. He tensed.

"Spidey, you don't even have you're web-thingy's."

Spiderman glanced down at his wrists and, sure enough, no web-shooters.

"Look, you can either come back inside willingly or I drag you back in. And I really don't want to risk ripping open your stomach again."

Spidey's hands was shaking again, no matter how much he tried to still them. He needed to be alone so he could stuff these resurfaced memories to the back of his mind. He barely remembered anything from last night; but he sure did remember his father putting that I.V. into his arm... and the Science-Doctors... science... doc... oh, wait, now he remembered.

He felt his face grow hot underneath his mask. He'd just had a panic attack in front of the Avengers. It might have not been so bad if he'd been Peter Parker at the time; but he hand't been. What did they think of him, Spiderman, after seeing him in such weakness?

"I-I have to go." Even without his web-shooters, he still had his sticky hands. He heard Captain Rogers sigh behind him and made to fully climb out the window- only for a pair of hands to grab him under the armpits. A yelp tore from his throat as he was dragged back into the room, grabbing desperately at the edges of the window, only for it to be torn from his fingers. His feet left the ground entirely as the Captain carried him back over to the bed, setting him on the edge of it.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Spiderman swallowed thickly, both embarrassed and annoyed. He shook his head.

Rogers smiled at him. "Good. Are you hungry?"

He opened his mouth, not sure what he was going to say, when a low rumble came from his stomach. His face went red as the Cap chuckled.

"I'll take that as a yes."

Rogers walked over to the other side of the room and grabbed a wheelchair, pushing it over to the vigilante. "Bruce wanted to make sure you didn't reopen those stitches, so that means no walking around for a while. Since you almost climbed out a window by yourself, I'm guessing you don't need help getting in?"

Spidey nodded and, after a moment of hesitation, sat down in the wheelchair. "This isn't really necessary."

Rogers shrugged. "Yes, well, I'm afraid Bruce might convince Natasha to murder me in my sleep if I let you walk, so..." the Super Soldier couldn't help but grin when the spider-enhanced boy let out a bark of laughter.

He wheeled him out of the room and into a hall, then into the elevator.

"JARVIS," Steve said, as the elevator doors closed in front of them. "Floor 88."

 _"Of course, Captain Rogers. Would you like me to inform the others that Spiderman is awake?"_

Spidey jumped, remembering the Voice from last night. Now that his brain wasn't so foggy, he realized that it was an A.I. Cool.

"Yes, thank you, JARVIS." Rogers said.

The sensation of going upwards made Spidey's injured stomach churn. He was suddenly very glad Rogers hadn't let him leave by window, if he could barely handle an elevator ride. Sitting down, no less.

When the doors opened, Rogers wheeled him into what appeared to be a living room, a large archway leading into a kitchen to the left.

"Hey, look who's awake!"

Spidey blinked, as Rogers wheeled him into the kitchen, where the rest of the Avengers where, obviously having just woken up from the bed hair and sleepy looks.

Tony Stark, the one who had spoken, grinned at them, his Arc Reactor clearly visible through his t-shirt. "How you feeling, Spidey?"

"Fine." he mumbled, fidgeting nervously in the wheelchair. Rogers wheeled him over to the end of the table. A man wearing glasses on the other side of the table looked him up and down over his cup of coffee, looking strangely satisfied. Spidey's heart jumped into his throat. The Science-Doctor.

"Okay, who wants pancakes?" Rogers asked, pulling out pancake mix from the pantry.

Everyone but Spidey raised their hands.

"Can I have blueberry's in mine?" Stark asked.

"Sure."

Purple-Vest put a hand in the air. "Me too."

"I'd like apples." at the strange looks he got, the Science-Doctor shrugged. "It's nice."

The Woman blinked. "I'd like to try that."

"I will have the apples as well." the Blond boomed. Was he always that loud?

All eyes turned to him expectantly, causing him to tense even more. "Er... I-I'm good, thanks."

They were still starring at him.

"You should eat." the Science-Doctor said, cutting himself off when Spidey flinched. The vigilante ducked his head to avoid their gazes.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Rogers asked quietly. Spidey nodded, but they didn't look convinced. "Alright... but you should eat something. I'll just give you plain."

Spidey thought about protesting, but decided against it. It was mostly from surprise though. Steve Rogers, Captain America, the Super Soldier, cooking breakfast? Who knew?

"I'm Clint Barton, by the way." Purple-Vest said, as Rogers began preparing the pancakes. "Also known as Hawkeye." He reached out to shake Spidey's hand, who took it hesitantly. He hadn't forgotten this guy holding him down...

"I'm Natasha Romanov. Black Widow." the Women said, before gesturing with her head in Rogers and Starks direction. "That's Steve Rogers slash Captain America and Tony Stark, slash Iron Man. But you already know them."

"I am Thor the Thunderer." the Blonde boomed, grinning at Spidey toothily. "Son of Odin Allfather."

"And I'm Bruce Banner." the Science-Doctor said, smiling kindly at him. He fidgeted uncomfortably. "Also known as the Hulk."

"It's, er, nice to meet you." he cleared his throat awkwardly.

For a few minutes, the only sound was a Rogers making pancakes and the others sipping on their coffee. Then-

"How did you get injured?" Stark asked.

"Oh, er..." Spidey frowned, scratching the back of his neck. How did he get injured? The last thing he remembered before being found by the Armor- Iron Man- was running away... but from what? "I can't really remember... All I know is that I'd just finished patrol and was heading home when a load of guys show up... I think there was a black van at some point, and I'm pretty sure I got a guy _really_ angry."

The Avengers shared looks.

"Anything else?" Banner asked.

"Um... yeah, I'm pretty sure there was a taser... You're burning those pancakes."

Rogers jumped, spinning around to take the pancakes out the pan before they were inedible. He sat plates in front of each of them, sitting down next to Spidey to eat his own. When the vigilante didn't move to eat, Stark raised an eyebrow at him. Sighing, Spidey pulled his mask over his mouth and nose and picked up a knife and fork, spreading butter over his own stack.

The Avengers began talking about nothing in general and Spidey was all for just sitting there, listening quietly. When he had finished his pancakes, Spidey pushed himself away from the table and pushed himself out the wheelchair, ignoring how his abdomen protested greatly.

"Wow, wow, wow, what do you think you're doing?" Stark asked, putting down his own fork and knife.

"Thanks for your hospitality, but I... really need to get going." he faltered slightly at Romanov's glare, licking his lips nervously.

"You can't leave." Banner said, straightening in his seat and frowning at him. "You're still injured. Besides, you shouldn't even be standing-" he cut himself off, starring at his stomach with wide eyes. Then his face settled into a 'I told you so' expression.

Spidey blinked, wondering what- oh. His bandages were turning red.

"Sit back down, Spidey." Rogers said, standing up. Spiderman hesitated, before complying, settling back into the wheeled chair. Rogers grabbed the handles and steered him into the living room- god, being in a wheelchair made him feel so _vulnerable._

Banner and Stark soon came in, Banner carrying a bag, which he sat down on the table. Spidey saw Barton, Romanov and Thor watching from the kitchen. They looked ready to jump in on something...

"Lie down on the couch." Banner barked. Spidey blinked, surprised at the sudden command, but had little time to think about it. Rogers grabbed him under the armpits again and pretty much picked him up (again), setting him down on the couch. Stark laid a hand on his shoulder. It felt as if he was ready to restrain him again.

"Guys..."

Banner opened the bag, pulling out a roll of bandages, thread and... a syringe. Spidey flinched violently.

"Don't worry, it's just to numb your stomach so I can fix it up." Banner reassured. He glanced over to the kitchen, where Romanov and Barton nodded at him. "It's- It's going to make you okay."

Spidey blinked, surprised, but he relaxed slightly. Rogers smiled at him encouragingly.

"Hey, kid," Stark said, drawing his attention. "What are you into?"

"Er... science, I guess."

Stark raised an eyebrow, a small grin on his lips. "Science?"

"Yeah, I, er, made my web-shooters. Where are they, by the way?"

"Oh, they're fine. I'll get them out the lab later. And don't worry about your costume, I've already made a new one." said Stark. Spidey raised an eyebrow.

"Never really saw you as a tailor." He heard Barton burst out laughing in the kitchen and Rogers grinned beside him.

Stark's cheeks went a little pink, but he grinned anyway. "Someone's gotta do it."

"All done."

Spidey blinked, surprised, to see Banner packing his things away. "What?"

Banner grinned at him. "All done. Thanks, Tony."

"No problem." Stark said, standing up and stretching. "I'm gonna go finish my pancakes now."

Spidey just sat on the couch for a moment, shocked. Had Stark just... distracted him? Wow. Just... wow.

Rogers stood up, gently grabbing him under the arm pits again and placing him back in the wheelchair. "Try and stay in it this time, okay?" Then he walked off to finish his own breakfast.

...wow.

* * *

 **Okay, don't worry, it'll get all angsty again soon. Probably next chapter. And yes, they're going to find out who Spiderman really is. But who were the people that had attacked Spidey? Well... you'll just have to read on, my friends :)**


	3. Chapter 3

When the Avengers had finished their pancakes, Stark had announced that they were going to have a 'Movie Morning.' Spidey had tried to convince them to let him go home, he really did, but they just downright refused. It was a good thing Aunt May was off climbing mountains for a month.

Spidey found himself actually enjoying the movie, Forrest Gump, but half-way through he felt himself begin to doze off. His shoulders slumped and his head lolled to the side. He blinked, trying to stay awake as Forrest stood up from the bench and began running, but he was really tired... maybe if he could just rest his eyes for a moment...

 _The needle gleamed as it was pulled out of the bottle. Hands were gripping his arms and legs, holding him down to a stone-cold table. He struggled, trying to wrench his limbs free, but their grips only tightened._

 _The Science-Doctor stuck the needle into his arm. He felt as if he was on fire, tears stinging his eyes. He screamed, looking at the Science-Doctor through tearful eyes. Then his heart jumped out of his chest. Grinning down at him with an unnatural smile, was his dad._

 _"Don't worry, Pete." Richard said, still smiling at him. "This will make you better."_

 _No. No, he didn't want that. He didn't- He couldn't- He wouldn't- it hurt, it hurt so much- he was on fire, he was burning from the inside out-_

 _"This will make you better, Peter."_

 _No, please- !_

Spidey yelped as he jolted awake, falling out of the wheelchair and landing on the floor painfully. He gasped, his abdomen burning like hot knives were stabbing into it over and over again, getting hotter and hotter with every passing second. His spidey sense was buzzing.

"Spidey, are you okay, son?"

A hand rested on his bare back and he flinched, curling in on himself. He pressed his shaky hands onto the ground beneath him and tried to push himself upright, only for a strangled scream to tear from his throat as his stomach blazed with agony. He collapsed back onto the ground, curling into a tight ball.

Multiple people were speaking, talking to each other, but he couldn't make it out. A pair of large hands closed around his arms and tried to pull him up, but it caused pain to stab at his abdomen and he screamed. The hands instantly let go.

"Thor, don't pick him up like that!" someone shouted above him. He whimpered, curling into a tighter ball. "I think the pain killers wore off- Steve, I need you to pick him up bridal style or something, so I can give him some more."

"Those must have been some pretty strong pain killers."

Someone was putting their arm under his legs and the their other arm underneath his back. Spidey only had a moment to realize what was about to happen when he was suddenly lifted often the ground, causing him to let out a moan. He curled up against a strong chest, clutching his middle tightly. Dimly, he remembered being in the almost exact same position the night before.

"Well, yes, but that fall probably tore at his stitches. It will be hurting a lot more then it did this morning."

"Two times. He's torn his stitches two times and we haven't even had lunch yet."

"Be quite, Tony. This time wasn't his fault."

A different hand took his arm, pulling it away from his burning stomach. There was a small sting near his elbow, then they let his arm go again. Spidey returned it to his wound, whimpering.

He sat there for a while, just focusing on his shaky breathing, as the pain ever so slowly went down until it was just a dull ache. He realized someone was stroking his hair through his mask.

"That better?" Rogers asked. Spidey blinked up at him, suddenly realizing he was curled against the Super Soldiers chest, sitting in his lap. The movie, which no had thought to pause, was forgotten in the background.

"Er, y-yeah." Spidey stuttered, face growing hot.

"Sorry we didn't wake you." Banner said, as he gently moved Spidey's arms away from his wound so he could look at it. The bandages were red again. "We didn't realize you were having a nightmare."

"It's, er, it's fine." Spidey swallowed thickly, blinking away the wetness in his eyes. Banner was slowly peeling the bandages away and, if sensing Spidey's gaze, he looked up at him, before turning his eyes to Rogers expectantly.

"Oh, um..." Rogers blinked, not knowing what to do. Then he reached forward and placed his hand over Spidey's white eye-lenses, startling the young vigilante.

"What are you- ?"

"Don't worry, just wait a sec."

Spidey's muscles tensed and his breathing quickened. Rogers was stroking his hair through his mask with his other hand again, just like his Uncle Ben had done when comforting him after a nightmare.

It felt like forever before his spidey sense slowly settled down and Rogers removed his hand, causing Spidey to blink at the sudden light. He had new bandages around his abdomen and Banner was packing away more medical supplies. He suddenly realized Stark was no where in sight.

Rogers helped him sit down on the couch, as Stark walked back into the room carrying a white t-shirt. "Here," the playboy said, holding the shirt up and making it so he could get his head in easily. "See if this fits."

Cheeks flaming, Spidey ducked his head through the shirt hole, his arms soon following. Stark let go of the shirt when it was on, stepping back to look him up and down. He probably looked ridiculous, wearing his tight, red and blue pants, boats and mask, and a white, overlarge t-shirt.

"It'll do for now." said Stark, shrugging. He knew it.

"Are you okay, son?" Rogers asked, as Stark sat down.

"I'm fine." Spidey mumbled, not looking at anyone. But he wasn't fine. And he was pretty sure they knew that too. Doesn't mean he's going to admit it vocally, though.

"I think I'll go to the gym." Romanov said, standing up. "Anyone coming with?"

Stark shrugged. "Might as well."

The others stood up too. Spidey made to follow, only for a hand to push him back down. He looked up at Rogers, who raised his eyebrows at him and then gestured with his head over to Barton, who was pushing the wheelchair over to them. Spidey sighed.

Once he'd climbed back into the wheelchair of annoyance, Barton pushed him after the others, into the elevator and into a huge gym that took up an entire floor, a boxing arena in the very middle. Huh. Wish he had a gym like this, his 'gym' being an abandoned warehouse.

"I'll take him." Banner said, taking the wheelchair off Barton, who nodded and went over to some archery targets. Banner wheeled him over to the sidelines and pushed the back of the wheelchair against the wall, next to a bench, which he himself sat on. He took out a tablet and beginning to tap away at it.

"Stark, you wanna spar?" Romanov asked. Stark finished putting on his training armor, the face plate falling to cover his features.

"Sure." said his voice, but with the metallic edge. Spidey unconsciously rubbed one of his bruised legs.

"What happened to your arm?" Banner asked, frowning as he spotted the nasty bruise on the boys right arm. Spidey winced, setting his arms in front of him so he could look at both bruises. He gave a nervous laugh.

"You guys have pretty strong grips..."

Banner blinked, before suddenly looking guilty. "Oh. Sorry about that."

Spidey shrugged, sitting his arms on the wheelchairs armrests. "S'not your fault. You weren't even the one that held me down..." he stopped talking and looked away from the scientist (not Science-Doctor; he may be a scientist and know some medical training, but he wasn't one of _them_ ), trying to calm himself before he went into another panic attack.

He watched as Rogers easily pulled one of the sand-filled punching bags over to the hook that hung from the ceiling, placing it on it and wrapping his hands in white straps. He began punching it, as Barton began firing arrows at moving targets on the other side of the room and Thor threw his hammer at his own moving targets. Stark and Romanov climbed into the boxing ring.

Spidey was completely caught off guard when Romanov suddenly twisted her body, bringing her foot up into a round house kick and hitting Stark right in his helmet, causing it to shoot to the side. After a moment, he slowly turned to look at the agent.

"Ow. My turn." Stark raised his hand and shot a blue beam at Romanov, who dodged it easily. Romanov got in close to Stark and kicked him in the stomach, but he recovered q uickly and grabbed her leg before she could bring it back down again.

Stark twisted her leg, making her spin around in the air and almost face-plant the floor, but she caught herself with her hands and pushed her lower body up and then down so she was in a crab-crawl, bringing Stark with her and slamming him, face first, into the floor. Banner winced beside him.

"Is training always like this?" Spidey asked, as Romanov got on Stark's back and began slamming his face into the floor. Stark reached behind his head and grabbed her wrists, flipping her over his head and onto the floor.

"More or less." said Banner.

Stark and Romanov were already on their feet and fighting again. Stark dodged one of her punches and shot another blue beam, sending her backwards into the rope. She used the momentum to push her forward and jumped, landing in a crouch on Stark's shoulders. Stark barely had time to react before Romanov moved forward, pressing her heels into his shoulders and leaping forward, landing in a roll. Stark stumbled forward and face-planted the floor.

Rolling onto his back, he raised his hand and let out another blue beam. Romanov made to jump out of the way, but was too slow. The blue beam hit her square in the chest, making her fall backwards onto the red ropes again.

Stark got to his feet and moved forward, standing over Romanov. He reached down to grab her by the shirt, but Romanov grabbed his gauntlet and did some sort of flip and twist that Spidey found hard to follow, and then she somehow had the top red rope warped around Stark's neck.

"Natasha, don't kill him." Rogers said, not looking up from his fourth punching bag.

Romanov let go of the billionaire, who took in a gasp of breath, slumping against the ropes and his mask flipping up to reveal his face. He reached up and clutched his throat, as if afraid Romanov would go back to strangling him again.

"You okay?" Romanov asked.

"I'm fine." Stark said, pushing himself to his feet. "Next time, I'm sparring Steve. You can go beat up Clint."

"Hey!" Barton yelled, turning his head to glare at Stark, even as he let an arrow loose, effortlessly taking down another target. "I could take down Natasha if I wanted to."

"Keep telling yourself that." Romanov said, jumping out of the boxing ring an taking a gulp out of a bottle of water. "Who wants lunch?"

"Anyone up for pizza?" Stark asked, following Romanov out the ring as if getting strangled by said woman was a normal occurrence. It probably was, actually.

"I'm good with pizza." Barton said, as he and Thor made his way over to them. He turned to look at Spiderman. "You like pizza?"

Spidey shrugged. "Yeah, sure."

"Pizza it is." said Stark. His armor made a few clicks and whizzes, the front opening to reveal the man inside it and allowing him to step out of it. "What toppings?"

"Pepperoni and mushrooms." said Clint, walking over to them. "Oh, and extra cheese."

"Sounds good." Banner shrugged, standing and tucking his tablet under his arm.

"Hey, Spidey." Stark said, taking a gulp of his own water. "Out of curiosity, how'd you get your powers?"

"I was bitten by a radioactive spider."

All eyes turned to him, blinking in surprise. Clint snorted.

"Okay, come on, really. How did you get your powers?"

Spidey let out a small laugh. "I'm not lying. I was actually bitten by a radioactive spider."

"Wait, you're serious?" Rogers asked. Spidey nodded.

"Oh... I'd thought you were some sort of escape experiment. Have- Have you ever been experimented on?" said Rogers, frowning slightly when the vigilante stiffened.

"Er... yeah, actually. But that was before... before my powers." said Spidey, awkwardly twiddling his thumbs.

Stark cocked his head to the side like a curious puppy. "How old are you?"

"How old... do I look?"

"I'm guessing twenty-two." said Barton, squinting his eyes at Spidermans frame and placing a hand on his chin.

"Twenty-four?" Banner suggested.

"Somewhere in the early twenties." said Rogers. Thor blinked at them, obviously very confused with the age differences between Earthlings and Asgardians.

"Twenty-five." Stark said, crossing his arms.

"Nineteen." Romanov said, squinting at him. Stark snorted.

"Nineteen? Really, Nat? That's too young. If he was bellow twenty, S.H.I.E.L.D. would have found him in no time. Would have probably forced him to either quit being Spiderman or become one of their little puppets."

"I am guessing one hundred." boomed Thor.

Spidey blinked. "Er... one hundred?"

"Ages are different on Asgard." Banner explained.

"Alright," Stark clapped his hands together. "Pizza time."

"Hold on a minute, Tony." Rogers said, before turning back to Spidey. "How old where you when you got experimented on?"

"Six."

Their eyes widened.

"Six?" Banner gaped. "Who would experiment on a six year old? Where were your parents when this happened?"

"They were the one's who did it." Spidey muttered, more to himself then the Avengers. Actually, just to himself. He looked up, surprised, to see the Avengers looking at him in horror. Had he said that out loud?

"Yes." Barton said, voice strained and face pale. "Yes, you did."

Huh.

"Why- Why did they do it?" Stark asked.

Spidey swallowed, but he didn't seem to have any saliva left. "They'd wanted me to be better."

When no one made a move to say anything or at least look away from him, Spidey began to feel uncomfortable and shifted in his wheelchair. This seemed to bring Stark back to reality, because he blinked and cleared his throat, snapping the others out of their shock as well.

"Right. Pizza." he said. He took one last, long look at Spidey, before turning around and walking towards the elevator.

Rogers came forward and took the wheelchairs handles, following the others towards the elevator. JARVIS took them to the living room and Rogers took Spidey under the armpits again (mental note: gain some height. Maybe that'll stop people trying to pick him up) and placed him on the couch so he'd be more comfortable, while Stark went into the kitchen to order the pizza.

That was messed up.

* * *

The man paced the dark room anxiously, nibbling on his thumb nail as he held the ringing phone to his ear. Half of him hoped that he wouldn't pick up. The other half knew that it was useless to hope.

 _"Yes?"_ answered a cold voice. It sent a chill down his spine.

"Sir," the man swallowed nervously. "It's me."

 _"I know who it is. Have you succeeded your mission?"_

The mans hands shook violently and sweat trickled down his forehead. "A-Actually, sir-"

 _"He got away. Correct?"_

He swallowed again and spoke barely above a whisper. "Yes, sir. W-We saw Iron Man flying him to Stark Tower for medical attention."

 _"I told you not to harm him. Only to sedate him."_

The mans back straightened, if only slightly. "That was Rickson's fault. Spiderman had made him angry and he'd tasered him. Stabbed him in the stomach a couple times before he was knocked off."

 _"Spiderman was still standing after being tasered and stabbed? I find that very unlikely,_ Hop-Frog. _"_

The man flinched violently, before scowling, teeth clenching together. "Do not shame me with such a name! That's a fools name, and I am no fool!"

 _"You're a fool and you know it. You better hope the Avengers were able to keep him alive."_

"They were." the man, Hop-Frog, said, relieved to have good news. "Pocket was able to get in long enough to find out. Didn't see him, though."

 _"Good. Now, since you spectacularly failed to do such a simple task- with him being tasered and_ stabbed _no less- I have put together a little... arrangement."_

"Arrangement?" Hop-Frog asked, his shirt sticking to his sweaty skin.

 _"Look behind you, Hop-Frog."_

Hands shaking even more and almost dropping the phone, Hop-Frog slowly turned around and nearly jumped out of his skin, heart hammering in his chest and almost tripping over his own feet as he stumbled backwards.

The figure just sat in the chair, seeming to have been there the hole time, a glass of wine casually sitting in his hand, despite the mask that covered his face.

 _"Oh, and about Rickson."_ the phone spoke up. _"You won't be seeing him again."_

Hop-Frog slowly dropped his hand to his side, as the caller hung up. The masked man stood from his chair, setting his wine down on the cluttered desk.

"So," said Deadpool, slapping his hands together and grinning eagerly behind his mask. "Who am I after?"

* * *

 **Hey, guys! This was a little hard to write because both of my SHIFT keys have fallen off and I have to press on one of them really hard to get it to work. I know I can just use caps lock when writing capital letters, but it doesn't really work with symbols (like ?, !, ", etc.). I'll still be trying to update fast, though :)**

 **Anyway, this story's starting to get good! I've got the plot all figured out and I've written what's to happen in my notebook (around five or ten chapters). If you spot any spelling mistakes or misused grammar, please tell me so I can go fix it. Thanks and I'll try to update soon!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Note: Just so you know, there will be no romance.**

* * *

"-so I jumped off my bike, and it drove right into HYDRA's doors and exploded. When the dust cleared, I was surrounded and they took me prisoner."

"Did you get out?"

Rogers smiled. "Yeah, of course. They took me inside to meet Red Skull, and the guy ended up punching me in the stomach and holding a gun to my head-"

 _"Sir, I believe your pizza has arrived."_ said JARVIS. Stark stood up from his seat, scowling. Spidey felt a bit disappointed at the war story being interrupted.

"It's about time! Idiots forty minutes late!" Stark walked over to the elevator as it reached their floor, the doors opening almost as soon as he stopped in front of it. "What took-"

Stark cut himself off abruptly, and Spidey turned to look over his shoulder at him curiously. What he saw made him blink in surprise.

A guy in a red and black mask stood in the doorway, wearing an orange pizza-delivery t-shirt over his suit. In his hands, he held a slightly squished pizza box, as if someone had fallen on it.

Was this some sort of prank?

"Deadpool?" Stark said, blinking dumbly at the guy. "What are you doing with our pizza?"

The guy, Deadpool, shoved the pizza into Stark's hands, who held it away from him as if it were about to explode (which, judging by the others expressions, might be). Deadpool walked past Stark and into the living room, as if this was the most normal thing in the world, and plopped down on the couch between Rogers and Spidey, who both inched away a little.

"Hey, people!" he said, throwing his arms behind him and over the back of the couch. "How are my little sweet cheeks?"

"Deadpool," Rogers said, putting on his 'Captain Voice.' "What are you doing here?"

"What, can't I come and see my besties?" Deadpool pouted, crossing his arms over his chest like an upset child. Then he seemed to spot Spidey for the first time. "Why, _hel-lo,_ cutie."

Spidey blinked, surprised at the sudden attention and at being called 'cutie.' For one, you couldn't even see his face. Unless this guy had x-ray vision, but he somehow doubted that.

Deadpool leaned towards him, getting right in his face, even when Spidey leaned over the side of the couch. The bottom of Deadpool's mask went down a little, opening his mouth to say something more, when a hand clasped around the back of his suit and pulled him away from the vigilante, who sighed in relief.

Rogers, now standing, pushed Deadpool in front of him, taking one last look at Spidey before turning his back to him to face Deadpool. "If you are not here for a reason, I must ask you to leave."

Deadpool was pouting again. "Aw, come on, Capsie! Let me stay?"

"No."

The guy huffed. "You're no fun."

"You haven't done anything to the pizza, have you?" Barton asked suddenly, looking at the box in Starks hands wearily. "Because if you have, might as well tell us now."

"Where would be the fun in that?" Deadpool giggled, clasping his hands behind his back and rocking back and forth on his heels.

"Deadpool," Stark snapped, glaring at him. "Get. Out."

"Aww! But I want to stay with this cutie over here." Deadpool side-stepped Rogers and grabbed Spideys face, squishing his cheeks together. Banner and Rogers grabbed Deadpool by the arms and dragged him away again. This guy had no respect for personal space, that was for sure.

"Will you stop calling him that?" said Stark, carefully setting the pizza down onto the coffee table, as if it was about to blow up in his face.

Deadpool snorted. "Overprotective, much?"

Stark scowled at him

"Right," Romanov said. "You have until the count of three to get out of this building."

Suddenly, Deadpool's voice deepened to the point that it was almost terrifying. "Is that a threat?"

"Yes. Yes, it is."

"Oh, okay!" now sounding astonishingly cheery, Deadpool made towards the elevator, stopped, turned around and pulled Spidey into a bone-cracking huge from behind the couch. Spidey gasped, trying and failing to wiggle out of the mercenary vice-like grip.

"Three."

Deadpool let Spidey go to duck behind the couch, as Thor's hammer flew over their heads and smashed into the wall behind them. Jumping to his feet, Deadpool ran in the direction of the elevator and, right before the doors closed, he put his hand up to his face in a 'Call Me' sign. A glass smashed against the metal doors a moment later.

"I missed." Stark grunted, hand falling back to his side. He looked up at the ceiling. "JARVIS, scan the pizza."

"The pizza has mushroom and pepperoni toppings, and is cooked to 'well done.' It has not been poisoned or tampered with and is edible." said JARVIS.

"Wait a moment, those bastards didn't put on my extra cheese!" Barton exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at the pizza box.

"You okay, Spidey?" Rogers asked, sitting text to him as Tony opened the pizza box and began handing out slices on paper plates, Barton still grumbling angrily in the background. "No torn stitches?"

"I'm fine." Spidey muttered, accepting the offered pizza slice but making no move to eat it. He wasn't that hungry, which was saying something, since he's had a bigger appetite ever since he got his powers.

Stark and Banner began talking about grammar radiation, and Spidey listened, putting in his own thoughts every now and then, but mostly staying silent.

"I would like some more of this delicious tomato and bread." said Thor a little while later, holding up his empty paper plate. Tomato sauce covered his face.

"Sorry, there's no more." Barton said, peering into the empty pizza box on the coffee table.

"You can have mine." Spidey said, gesturing to his untouched slice.

"Isn't that your first slice?" Rogers asked. Damn him. "It's got the pepperoni in the same place."

Spidey scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well, yes-"

"Eat it."

He blinked, a bit surprised. "I'm not really-"

"You should eat, Man of Spiders." boomed Thor, suddenly frowning at him. "I have had more then enough."

Dammit, now they were all starring at him.

"I don't-"

"Eat it before I shove it down your throat." said Romanov, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at him. Spidey swallowed, hastily pulling his mask up to reveal his mouth and nose.

Looking strangely satisfied as he took the first bite, the Avengers turned back the their conversations, glancing at him every how and then to make sure he was still eating.

Spidey swallowed the last few bites, wiping his mouth with his arm before pulling his mask back down. His stomach churned and he felt like he was about to throw up. He was very glad that his had been the last slice; they would have probably made him eat more.

"Are you still hungry?" Rogers asked, "I can make you a sandwich if you are."

Spidey hurriedly shook his head. "I'm good, thanks."

Rogers didn't look convinced, but he didn't push it.

"How-How about we play a game?" Banner suggested, after a moment. "You've got some board games, right, Tony?"

Stark grinned and jumped to his feet, speed-walking out of the room. There was the sound of someone rummaging through a closet, before Stark returned carrying thin boxes.

He sat them down on the coffee table, shoving the empty pizza box onto the floor carelessly. Spidey looked at them curiously. There was _Monopoly, Sorry Sliders, Risk_ and _Cluedo._

"Which one should we play?" Stark asked, looking around expectantly.

"I say Monopoly." said Barton, as Thor tilted his head to the side, looking at the board games curiously.

"No way, nu uh." Banner said, shaking his head. "I _hate_ Monopoly. Never had a game where it didn't break out into a fight in my life."

"How about we do 'youngest gets first pick'?" Stark suggested. All eyes turned to Spidey.

I hate you, Stark.

"Who said I'm the youngest?" Spidey asked, not wanting to admit that he was in fact very young. It probably wouldn't have mattered as much if he was actually in his early twenties, like so many of the Avengers thought, but the thing that made it personal was that he was _younger_ then that. Get his logic? Probably not.

"Well, how old _are_ you?" Romanov asked. Damn her.

"I thought you'd said you people understood the need for secrets." Spidey pointed out, crossing his arms. The Avengers shared looks, looking a bit surprised that he remembered Barton saying that.

"But if you were not the youngest, why would you feel the need to keep it secret?" Thor pointed out, seemingly oblivious to the smug looks Stark, Barton and Romanov gave the vigilante.

"Oh, _fine_!" Spidey groaned. Giving a smug-looking Stark a half-hearted glare, he glanced at the board games and picked the first one he saw. "Cluedo."

The game lasted around an hour, with Romanov's character, Scarlet, ending up being the murderer. The scary thing was, the boys knew she was very capable of murdering someone and that, unlike her character, she could easily get away from it.

They played _Sorry Sliders,_ then _Risk_ and by the third game ( _Monopoly,_ at Clint's insistence) Spidey was unconsciously calling the Avengers by their first names. _Monopoly_ , as Bruce had predicted, turned into a fight that ended with Steve having to rip the closet door off it's hinges to get Tony out.

After that, the board games were put away, probably never to see the light of day again, and the Avengers dragged Spidey into the kitchen to help cook dinner. Turns out Wednesday is lasagna night, and by 'help,' he means sit at the table, listening to them talking and asking and answering a few things every now and then, while they bustle about setting the table and cooking the lasagna, peas and mashed potatoes.

A little while later, Spidey was blinking in surprise as Steve sat a plate overloaded with food in front of him and filled his glass to the brim with grape juice. The Avengers sat down, picking up their knives and forks and beginning to eat. Spidey realized that he had the most food out of all of them.

"This is a bit much, isn't it?" Spidey asked, frowning at his overflowing plate. Remembering how he'd felt like throwing up after eating one slice of pizza, he highly doubted he could eat half of this.

Steve shared a look with Tony, who had a mouth full of mashed potatoes, before turning back to Spidey. "Just eat as much as you can."

Spidey bit his lip, before picking up his fork and taking the top off his potato mountain. Pulling his mask over his mouth and nose again, he put the potatoes in his mouth. Stomach churning, the vigilante forced himself to swallow.

This continued for a while. Not wanting to seem ungrateful, Spidey forced himself to keep eating, ignoring the way he felt like he was going to throw it all up and taking another bite. The vigilante looked down at his plate, hiding a grimace when he realized he'd barely eaten a quarter of it. The Avengers were already getting second helpings.

Giving a mental sigh, he braced himself and put another forkful of lasagna into his mouth. He couldn't hide his wince this time, as the food went down his throat and into his stomach. It churned and he felt something coming up the back of his throat.

Eyes widening as he realized what was about to happen (and in front of the _Avengers,_ no less) but with nothing he could do to stop it, Spidey leaned over the side of his wheelchair and vomited.

Chatter immediately stopped, and Spidey clenched his eyes in slight pain. He gave a small cough as it finally ended, slumping over the side of the wheeled chair, panting and grimacing at the foul taste that lingered in his mouth and the small burn in the back of his throat.

Gentle hands clasped his shoulders and pulled him back so he was sitting in the chair properly, head lulling back over the edge. He blinked open his eyes, coming face to face with six concerned Avengers. Steve, one of his hands still on his shoulders, knelt down beside him, raising his other hand to stroke his head again.

"I think I've eaten as much as I can." Spidey said quietly, giving the Super Soldier a smile that probably looked more like another grimace. Steve gave him a small smile for his efforts, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Come on, let's get you back into the living room." Steve said, standing up and taking the wheelchairs handles. "I probably should have known that you wouldn't be able to stomach that much food right now."

"I'll clean this up." Natasha announced, walking over to the closet to get the mop. Spidey gave her a little smile in thanks, before pulling his mask back over his mouth and nose.

Steve wheeled him back towards the couch and, taking him under the armpits again, laid him down on it, head resting against a pillow. He knelt down next to his head and slid his hand under the Spiderman mask, startling him and causing him to jump slightly.

Giving him a small grin in apology, Steve brought his hand along Spiderman's face until he reached his forehead, brushing away the hair that the mask caused to stick to it. It was a rather uncomfortable position, what with the mask getting in the way, but only lasted a few moments before Steve was frowning and pulling his hand back.

He sat there for a moment, biting his lip as he looked over the young vigilante's concealed face. Then he reached forward again, this time sticking his hand down the back of Spidey's borrowed shirt to feel his back. Spidey blinked.

"What are you- ?"

"Just feeling your temperature." Steve reassured, before drawing his hand back. He looked over his shoulder as Tony and Bruce came over, Bruce carrying his med-bag thing. Spidey tensed, sitting up on his elbows, eyes narrowing onto the Science-Doctor bag.

Steve gave him a look he couldn't quite place, before turning back to the two scientists. "I think he's got a fever." Bruce nodded, kneeling down next to Steve and setting his Science-Doctor bag onto the floor. "Understandable. We should have checked his temperature the moment he woke up."

Bruce opened his bag and pulled out a thermometer, before moving to pull up the Spiderman mask. Spidey flinched violently, scrambling onto his knee's and pressing his back against the couch in an attempt to get away from the Science-Doctor, heart hammering against his chest fearfully. The Science-Doctor and the Soldier froze, brows furrowing in concern.

A hand rested against the top of his head from behind him, and Spiderman snapped his head around so fast that his neck cricked. Tony raised his hands in an 'I surrender' manner, frowning at the young vigilante in concern.

"Are you okay, Spidey?" he asked, his voice soft and his frown deepening when he only got ragged breathing in return. Tony bent his knees into a sort-of squat, so that he was eye level with Spiderman. "Spidey? Hey, it's okay. It's me, Tony, remember? It's okay, you're okay. No one's- No one's trying to make you better."

Spidey's breathing became more even, and his muscles relaxed. Tony smiled encouragingly, slowly bringing his hand up and stroking Spidey's head. He straightened, leaning over to gently push the vigilante back onto his back.

Bruce and Steve gave Tony smiles, who blushed slightly, not meeting their eyes as he scowled at the wall. Bruce slowly moved forward, making sure Spidey's white eye-lenses were on him before grasping the bottom of the mask and pulling it over his nose and mouth.

"Can you open your mouth for me?" Bruce asked, giving the vigilante's forehead an affectionate pat when he did. He stuck the thermometer under Spidermans tongue, who closed his mouth around it.

They sat in silence for a few moments, Steve absentmindedly taking Spidey's hand in his, stroking the young mans palm with his thumb. When the thermometer beeped, Bruce took it out, frowning slightly when he saw the results.

"Do you have a sore throat or a headache?" he asked, setting the thermometer on the coffee table behind him.

"Er... my stomach hurts and my throat burns a little from vomiting, but otherwise, no." Spidey said, embarrassed to find himself in this position.

"Hmm..." Bruce said, rubbing his chin a little. He dug back into his bag, pulling out a brown-stained bottle and a tablespoon. Spidey blinked at it before narrowing his eyes suspiciously, opening his mouth to ask something when a cool glass of water appeared in front of his face.

He followed the hand holding the glass to it's owner. Tony gestured with his head for him to take it, having disappeared at some point to go and get some water for him. Spiderman blinked at him stupidly, before taking the glass in his hand and saying a quiet "Thanks." He took a large gulp, the cool liquid feeling like heaven on his burning throat.

When the glass was emptied, Steve took it off him and sat it next to the thermometer on the table. By this time, Bruce had already filled the tablespoon with a pure white liquid.

"Two spoon fulls will do for now." he said, holding the spoon out for the spider-enhanced being. Spidey sighed and opened his mouth. How bad could it be?

Very bad, apparently.

Spidey gagged, forcing himself to swallow the foul medicine. He grimaced, sticking his tongue out a little in disgust. The three adults chuckled.

"Alright, just one more." Bruce said, refilling the spoon. When he held it out, however, Spidey slapped both hands over his mouth, shaking his head.

"Nu uh."

"Come on, Spidey-"

"No, not happening."

"Just shut up and take your medicine." Natasha said, as she, Clint and Thor walked into the room, having finished cleaning up the vomit and washing the dishes.

"No. It's disgusting."

"It'll take the pain in your stomach away." Steve tried.

"I can live with it."

"Spidey, really, I don't want to have to hold you down again." Clint said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Then don't."

"I hope I won't have to. Just take your medicine, it'll be over in an instant."

"I can still taste the aftertaste."

"That's why it's called an aftertaste."

"Okay, are you going to take it or not?" Bruce asked, still holding the spoon up.

"No."

Bruce sighed, pinching the skin beneath his glasses. "Alright, fine. If that's what you want. Tony?"

Hands grabbed both his arms and pulled them away from his mouth to hold against the back of the couch. Spidey yelped, struggling to rip his arms free. Another hand (Steve, he thinks) grabs his jaw, turning his head towards Bruce.

Steve rested his other hand on Spidey's forehead and slowly but surly pried the younger man's jaw open. Spidey kicked out, nearly kicking Bruce in the ribs. Natasha stepped forward and grabbed his ankle, halting him in his attempt to spill the disgusting whiteness that sat innocently in the tablespoon.

Spidey tried to twist his head away as the spoon drew nearer, but Steve had a firm grip on his face. Almost as soon as his jaw was opened wide enough, Bruce shoved the spoon in it.

Suddenly released, Spidey coughed as the medicine slid down his throat, torturing his taste buds with its horrible taste. He wiped his mouth on his arm, giving a small groan.

Another glass of water was pushed into his hands and Spidey drank from it eagerly, desperate to get the awful taste out of his mouth. When it was empty, he pulled his mask back down, encase they tried to give him anymore.

He jumped as a hand went down the back of his shirt, turning his head to give Steve a small glare. The Super Soldier just gave him a smile, before withdrawing his hand, seemingly satisfied.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Bruce asked, as he cleaned the thermometer and spoon and placed them and the medicine back in his bag.

"I'd like to see you try it."

* * *

 **Happy birthday to me! Happy birthday to me! Happy birthday, dear Night! You are now 14!**

 **Yeah, it's my birthday (December 23rd 2015)! I'm glad I was able to update today, even though it's pretty late here. Anyway, next chapter will be very interesting, I assure you ;)**

 **I'd like to thank you for all the reviews, they've given me a lot of encouragement in continuing to write this. Merry Christmas, guys!**


	5. Chapter 5

The Avengers still wouldn't let him leave by nightfall.

They watched the rest of Forrest Gump, before they all decided to go to bed. Steve wheeled Spidey back to the guest room, the one he'd woken up in, and helped him into the bed, making sure to sit the wheelchair in front of the bedside table.

"If you need anything, I'm just down the hall." Steve said, as he walked towards the door. He put his hand on the doorknob, turning around to grin at the vigilante. "It's the one with the shield on it. Tony did that, not me. Anyway, if you need anything at all, I'll be there, and Tony's right next door. Night, Spidey."

"G'Night." Spidey said, as Steve flicked off the lights and closed the door behind him. The vigilante sighed, rolling over so that he was facing the window-wall. He could leave, right then and now. He could go home, take a small break of being Spiderman to allow time for him to heal, go back to school and wait for Aunt May to come back. He could just forget this ever happened.

But did he really want that?

Deciding that they'd probably hunt him down if he left (and also the fact that JARVIS will probably alert them if he even tried), Spidey sighed and rolled onto his back, gently resting a hand on his injured stomach. His eyes drifted closed and his head lolled to the side. Yeah, he thought, as his mind began to drift off to sleep. They'd probably glue me to that blasted wheelchair if I even tried.

 _"Dad?" Peter whispered, grabbing his fathers jacket sleeve._

 _Richard looked down at him, already halfway out the door. He looked at his wife, before kneeling down in front of their son. "Yes, Pete?"_

 _"Why are you leaving?" Peter asked, blinking tearful eyes at him. "Is it- is it because I'm not better?"_

 _Richard sighed, grasping Peter's chubby arm and looking at it almost regretfully, as if wishing it was big and muscly like the serum was supposed to make it. "Yes, Peter. That's why me and your mother are leaving. But we'll come back. It's only for a little while."_

 _"When?" Peter asked. "When will you and mommy come back?"_

 _Richard sighed again, letting go of his son's arm and standing. "Eventually, Pete. Eventually."_

 _And he and his mother were out the door and in the taxi, driving away to the airport, Peter and his aunt and uncle watching from the glass door long after the taxi was out of sight._

 _Aunt May squeezed his shoulder and stood, leading him away from the door and into the kitchen._

 _ **Spidey sense.**_

Spidey's eyes snapped open, coming face to face with a red and black mask inches from his own.

"Hey." Deadpool said.

Hey.

 _Hey._

"What are you _doing_ here?" Spidey hissed, pushing the mercenary- who was no longer wearing that pizza-shirt- away from him so he could sit up.

"I'm here to kidnap you." Deadpool answered, as if commenting on the weather. He put him hand into a pouch on his hip and withdrew a needle. "Now hold still while I sedate you."

Spidey's eyes widened and he jumped up onto the ceiling, the microscopic hairs on his hands and feet sticking him to it. The needle hit where his leg had been moments before.

"What kind of sicko are you?" Spidey whispered harshly, not wanting to wake the Avengers. He didn't fancy having a babysitter at the moment. He could handle himself.

Deadpool jumped up and down on the balls of his feet, making a kind of whiny noise, not unlike a toddler. "Come down."

"No."

The mercenary sighed, before walking over to the closest and opening it. He pulled out a broom. For a moment, Spidey thought he was going to mount it and fly off like a witch (What? The guy seemed strange enough), before Deadpool came forward and began poking him with it.

"What the- What are you doing?" Spidey asked, trying to swat the broom away.

"Trying to get you to come down." grunted Deadpool, before accidentally hitting the vigilante in the face with it. "Oops. You gonna come down now?"

"No. Go away." Spidey said, grabbing the brooms handle and trying to tug it out of the mercenary's grasp. Deadpool's grip tightened and he shook his head. Thus began a game of Tug of War.

"Let go." Spidey grunted.

"No, you let go."

"It's not you're broom."

"You used 'you're' wrong. It's _your_."

"Wha-"

"Besides, s'not your broom neither."

"I- _just go away._ "

"I'm not going anywhere unless you're coming with me."

Spidey growled in annoyance. "I don't even _know_ you."

"My name's Wade Wilson." Deadpool said. "Will you come with me now?"

" _No._ "

"Aw, _come on!_ " Deadpool whined, stomping his foot dramatically. His voice suddenly became deeper and a lot darker. "If you don't come down, I'll _make_ you come down."

Deadpool gave an extra hard tug, causing the unprepared Spiderman to fall from the ceiling, startled. He landed on the bed with an " _Oof!"_

The mercenary made to jump on top of him, but Spidey rolled out of the way and onto the floor. He jumped to his feet, narrowly dodging one of Deadpool's swords, and leaped to the side. Deadpool jumped off the bed, advancing on the weaponless vigilante. Why, oh _why,_ did the Avengers have to take his web-shooters?

Spidey jumped up and over Deadpools head, resting his feet on the mercenary's shoulders and pushing off. He landed on the ground and went into a short roll, as Deadpool's head smacked against the wall above the desk. But he recovered much to quickly for Spiderman's liking, and lunged forward as the vigilante stood up, knocking him back onto the bed.

The two struggled for a while, and eventually Deadpool got on top of Spidey, who's legs were tucked against his chest and the mercenary's hand on his throat. Deadpool took out the sedative again, raising it above his head and preparing to stab it into the vigilante's arm.

That's when the door opened.

The two masked men's head snapped towards the opened door, the hallway light pouring into the room. Steve stood in the doorway, wearing blue pajamas. He blinked at them, his face forming into a look of surprise, then shock and then anger.

 _"DEADPOOL!"_

Spidey used this moment to kick Deadpool in the stomach, winding him, but only for a moment. Steve began walking forward, as the sound of the other Avengers opening their bedroom doors reached their ears. Deadpool jumped off Spidey in favor of Steve, kicking the Super Soldier in the chest and causing him to stumble back about two or three inches. This was enough for him to be in the hallway, and Deadpool slammed the door shut, locking it with a _click!_

"Right," the mercenary said, voice once again deep. "Time for your nap."

Spidey's eyes widened and he leaped to his feet, but Deadpool threw the syringe at him, hitting him right in the forearm. Spidey gasped, heart jumping into his throat as he stared at the horrible needle. A pair of hands grabbed him, pressing his back against a hard chest. Spiderman struggled desperately, his spidey sense buzzing, as a hand grabbed the needle still in his arm and pressed the plunger-

 _And suddenly he was Peter, and he was in his old basement. His chest was burning, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't take the needle out of his arm because his dad was holding his wrists, and his dad was talking about leaving, and someone was banging on the basement door, demanding to be let in, and the door was cracking and splintering and falling off it's hinges as six figures forced their_ _way through._

 _Peter was thrown over a shoulder, his stomach screaming painfully, and then everything was cold and the sounds of cars honking at each other and the flashing lights of New York met his eyes, but his eyes were becoming heavy, and he was becoming tired, and the six figures were running after them, screaming something that sounded a lot like 'spy.'_

 _Peter tried to lift his head, to struggle, to call after the six figures, but he was so_ tired _. Why was he so tired? Why did his limbs feel like lead? Why was his head pounding against his skull? Why was something digging into his stomach far to painfully, and why was something warm and wet spreading through his shirt?_

 _Why was he moving?_

* * *

Deadpool lost the Avengers soon enough, but he knew they were still on his tail. He knew he had to be quick and that they'd probably find him before the night was done. But by then, he'll have handed Spiderman (who was so damn _cute_ ) over to his "buyers," and he'll have his money and he'll just tell the Avengers exactly what they want to know. As long as he came out with his cash, he was good with whatever happened.

The mercenary jumped in through the warehouses window, looking around the dingy place casually. Spiderman groaned a little from where he lay over his shoulder, but Deadpool shushed him. He was a bit surprised with all the blood coming from the vigilante's stomach, but he was sure his buyers would fix that. How did he get such a nasty wound, anyway?

"Deadpool." a man in an expensive looking suit spoke up, walking over to the mercenary. A young lady with her hair in a messy bun, glasses and clutching a slick black computer to her chest followed him, as well as a few armor-cladded fellas.

"I see you have completed your mission." the man said, looking at the unconscious Spiderman approvingly. "Now if you'll just hand him over-"

"No _pe_." Deadpool cut him off, popping the 'p.' "Payday first."

The man's eyes twitched, but he complied, gesturing for the lady to hand him something. The young lady dug her hand into her lab coat pocket and withdrew a thick roll of dollars, handing it to the man in the expensive suit, who then handed it to Deadpool.

The mercenary grinned beneath his mask and took the money, handing Spiderman over to the guards. He flicked through the bills, enjoying the sound of them flipping against each other. He stuffed it in one of his pockets, the same one he'd hidden the syringe in.

"So..." Deadpool said, watching as the guards carried Spiderman away and towards a black van. "What's gonna happen to lil'Spidey?"

The man and lady, who where the only one's left in the warehouse besides Deadpool, as the van drove away with the guards and Spiderman, shared a look.

"That's none of your concern, Deadpool." the man said. "Now, we must be going."

The man and lady turned, heading towards a fancy looking car.

"Of course, of course." Deadpool said. "I'll just get going, then."

The mercenary turned to leave, but then spun around and round house kicked the man in the head. The lady screamed, as blood began to spread around the mans head, but Deadpool leaped forward and placed a hand over her mouth.

"Shh, shh, shh." he shushed her, putting a finger to his lips. The lady whimpered, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Yeah, it's okay. Just hand over the laptop and tell me the password to it."

The lady handed Deadpool her laptop and took a trembling step back. "I-I-It's _p-p-p-pa-password_." Then she spun on her heel and ran towards the car, jumping into the drivers seat. Deadpool bent down next to the dead guy and pulled out a dart gun from his jacket pocket. He aimed it at the car and pulled the trigger, the dart smashing the window and hitting the lady in the neck before she could step on the gas.

 _Haha. Step._

Deadpool sat cross legged next to the dead guy, opening the laptop and switching it on. He typed in _p-p-p-pa-password,_ only for it to come up **INCORRECT**.

Deadpool huffed, before typing in _password_. Where was these peoples creativity? I mean, password. _Password._ Honestly. And _totally_ cliche.

He scrolled through the documents, before typing _Spiderman_ into the search box. It came up with multiple files. Frowning slightly, Deadpool opened the first document.

What he saw made him stand up, a growl ripping from his throat. Experimentation. _Human_ experimentation. That's why they wanted lil'Spidey; to experiment on him. Maybe he and the cutie weren't so different after all. They'd both been experimented on, even before they'd got their powers.

Giving a single nod, Deadpool closed the laptop and tucked it under his arm, making his way out of the warehouse.

He had an itsy bitsy spider to find.

* * *

Tony was mad. Like, _beyond_ mad. He was raging.

Not only had that stupid mercenary disabled JARVIS and broken into his _top-security_ tower, he'd taken Spidey. _His_ Spidey. _His_ friend. The same Spidey he'd sat on roofs with after unexpected team ups, laughing and eating pizza. The same Spidey he'd found stumbling along an empty street with a stab wound. The same Spidey he carried back to the Tower and worried his head off about as he refused medical attention.

They'd decided to split up after losing Deadpool. Thor went with a near Hulked-out Bruce, Natasha went with Clint and Tony went with Steve. The Super Soldier was running along the path, wearing joggy bottoms and a white tank top with his shield on his back. He'd changed so fast Tony suspected he'd been wearing that under his blue pajamas. He was still barefoot, though. Eight out of ten.

Tony himself was still in nothing but his boxers. That didn't really matter though, since he was in his suit. Steve was getting a few stares, on the other hand.

 _Anyway._

Tony rounded the corner into an alleyway, landing on the grim laced floor. Steve was beside him in an instant.

"JARVIS, scan the place for Spidey's signature."

 _"Of course, sir. Spiderman and Deadpool came down this alley, went right, left, right, right, left, right, left, left, right, crossed the street, went into another alleyway, went left, right, left, left, right and then into the sewers."_

Tony and Steve were off before he even finished. They got turned around a few times, but JARVIS always corrected them and soon they were picking up a manhole cover and jumping into the sewers. Deadpool must have been making quite a few turns in an attempt to lose them.

Tony and Steve walked through the sewers for over an hour, and were soon pulling themselves up through a different manhole cover.

"Where to now, JARVIS?" Tony asked.

Silence.

"JARVIS?"

 _"Sir,"_ JARVIS said uncertainly. _"It seems that we are back at Avengers Tower."_

Tony blinked, before looking behind him and spotting the Tower.

 _They've gone in a huge_ _circle._

Tony let out an angry scream and blasted a blue beam into the sky.

"You too, huh?"

Tony and Steve turned to spot the rest of the Avengers, all looking tired and angry. Bruce, the one who had spoken, walked over to Tony.

"He's gone."

Steve sighed, rubbing his forehead. They'd just wanted to help the kid. They'd just wanted to make sure he was okay and didn't get hurt again. He reminded Steve of himself when he was younger, wanting to help the world even if it kills him. That's one of the many reasons why he liked him so much. But, of course, the kid seemed to be a trouble magnet.

Another thing that reminded Steve of himself.

"What do we do?" Clint asked, looking at Steve expectantly. All eyes turned to him.

Steve sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I think the only thing we can do is keep searching."

Tony nodded. "I'm going to kill Deadpool next time I see him."

"Make sure I'm there when you do." Steve said, beginning to make his way down the road to continue the search.

"No problemo, Stevie. No problemo."

* * *

Everything _h_ _urt._

Spidey blinked his eyes opened, groaning as his body gave another painful spasm. His vision was blurry and his head pounded against his skull as if his brain was trying to escape his head.

People were hovering above him, talking to either him or each other, he didn't know and he didn't really care. He groaned again, his head lolling to the side and his eyes squeezing shut. More words were spoken, before a cold hand grasped the back of his mask.

Spidey's eyes snapped open the moment before it happened, but he was not fast enough to stop it. He let out a gasp as his mask was torn from his face.

Lights that were far to bright clouded his sight and noise that was far to loud met his ears. Spidey struggled in his captors grip, his heart hammering against his chest as he tried desperately to stop them from seeing his face. He kicked someone in the face, hearing the satisfying sound of a nose breaking.

But then Spidey was thrown painfully against a hard, cold metal table, hands strapping his wrists and ankles into place. Spidey pulled against the restraints, but they were not the ol' leather, buckles and straps. They were metal.

Spidey struggled desperately, but it was no use. He pulled and twisted, adrenaline pushing his throbbing agony to the back of his mind. Then a hand grabbed his jaw and forced his head towards its owner. What he saw made his heart stop.

"D-Dad?"

"Hey, Pete." Richard smiled at him, just like he had when he was six. He pinched his muscly arm, his grin widening in satisfactory. "I told you you'd be better, didn't I?"

* * *

 **... *grins slowly*... I'm evil. Aren't I evil?**

 **Thank you for all the Happy Birthdays! Sorry I didn't update sooner, but I've been busy playing with my new things and mostly reading my new books. I really like my skateboard too...**

 **Anyway, yes. Richard's alive. I'm not sure if I'm going to add Mary, probably not though. I'll think up how she died later on, she won't be _completely_ ignored.**

 **Okay, what did you think? I think, now that Spidey's been 'revealed,' that I'm going to refer to him as Peter from now on. And yes, Deadpool's gonna be a "good guy."**

 **Also, I'm gonna go with Spidey being 16 in this story.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Warning: A bit of gore in this chapter.**

* * *

No.

 _No._

After they took off his mask, Spidey- no, _Peter_ \- was stripped down to nothing but his boxers and the bandages on his stomach, which had gone from snowy white to bloody crimson. But Peter's mind had gone numb; in that moment, he didn't care that the Science-Doctors knew who he was; in that moment, he couldn't even think about escaping. All he knew was his fathers face, smiling at him as he placed little suction cups on the vigilante's chest.

"You're dead." Peter whispered.

Richard chuckled. "No, I'm very much alive, Pete. And now we can continue that little experiment we did all those years ago. Remember that? We're going to replicate what made you better, so we can make the whole _world_ better. Won't that be great, Peter?"

Peter was shaking his head, unwilling tears stinging his eyes. "N-No. I told you. I don't want to be better; I just wanna be okay." This had to be a nightmare. At any moment now, he was going to wake up in Avengers Tower, or in his bedroom, heck, he wouldn't even mind being woken by his teacher in the middle of class and given a detention. Anything, _anything,_ just to prove this wasn't real.

But he did not awaken with a jolt, his fathers smiling face did not fade away, the too-tight metal cuffs around his wrists and ankles continued to rub his skin raw. Peter's heart hammered against his ribs, his eyes darting around the Science-Doctor's lab, looking for an escape route. He found nothing.

"-but to recreate the serum," Richard was saying. "We're going to have to dissect you. You'll live, of course, but you'll have to be awake throughout the whole process. You'll be given pain killers so you don't pass out-"

But Peter had stopped listening after 'dissect,' and was twisting and turning on the metal table desperately, heat jumping into his throat fearfully. No, this wasn't happening, this was just a nightmare, any moment now Steve or one of the others was going to wake him up for breakfast and redo his bandages. Any moment now, the pain from his wound will jerk him awake.

"Peter," Richard said, cutting himself off when he realized he was being ignored, frowning disapprovingly. "Peter, stop struggling, we won't be able to do the experiment properly if your wound is too severe."

When Peter continued struggling, Richard gave a small growl in annoyance. "Peter, you will listen to your father and-"

"You're not my father." Peter growled, panting as sweat dripped from his brow, turning his head to glare at his worst fear. "A father doesn't experiment on their own freakin' child. My father never did that; _my_ father died in a robbery a year ago. And his name was Benjamin, not Richard."

Richard stared at him for a moment, seeming a bit surprised. Then his surprise turned into a scowl. "Ben was your uncle, Peter. Not your dad." he looked over his shoulder at one of the Science-Doctors behind him. "Begin the dissection."

* * *

Deadpool was not having a nice day.

First he discovered he'd completed a job that involved human experimentation. And then, when he goes out to find the poor lil'Spider, he runs into the Avengers. _All_ of the Avengers. All of the very, very, _very_ angry Avengers.

So that's how Deadpool found himself being pressed against the side of a building in an alleyway, Iron Man's metal fingers cutting off his windpipe. Iron Man's face plated whizzed, moving away to reveal his face, which was twisted into an angry scowl.

"Where. Is. Spider. Man." he spoke through gritted teeth, his grip on Deadpool's throat tightening. Deadpool gasped, weakly hitting Iron Man's gauntlet. God, this guy was _strong_.

"Tony," Captain America said. "I don't think this is helping."

"Can I knock him about first?" Iron Man asked, looking at the Captain hopefully. The Captain made a 'go ahead' gesture. Damn him. I thought he was the goody-two-shoes one.

Iron Man drew his fist back and punched Deadpool in the nose. The mercenary recovered quickly, ignoring the warm feeling of blood from his nostrils, and kneed Stark in his metallic stomach. Because of his armor though, it barely fazed him.

Stark glared at him and pulled his fist back to punch the mercenary in the stomach.

"Wait!" Deadpool gasped.

The Avengers froze, looking at him expectantly.

Deadpool took another gasping breath. "Do you- Do you-" he cleared his throat. "Do you- Do-"

"Get on with it!" Clint snapped. "Unless you want Brucie here to- as we say- 'Hulk-Out.'"

Bruce had- like Clint had said- had a tint of green to his skin for almost an hour now.

"Okay, okay. Jeez." Deadpool said. He cleared his throat again, which still had Iron Man's gauntlet wrapped around it. "Do you..." he paused and the Avengers leaned forward unconsciously.

"Do you... know the Muffin Man?"

Stark punched him in the face again. "What did you do to Spidey?!"

"You didn't answer the question!" Deadpool exclaimed. This only earned him another punch in the nose.

"Alright! I, for one, only sedated him." Deadpool said, sticking his broken nose in the air, which healed itself with a small c _rack_.

Stark slammed him against the wall again. "Where did you take him?" he hissed.

"A warehouse a little ways away." Deadpool, for once, gave a straight answer. "But they took him away before I could stop them."

"What?" Rogers asked, frowning at him. "Who took him? And why would _you_ try to stop them?"

"Because they're going to experiment on him." answered Deadpool. He looked at Banner. "You're looking a little green. Are you sick? If so, I must ask you to keep your distance."

" _They're going to experiment on him?!_ " Rogers, Stark, Banner and Barton shouted. Romanov didn't shout, but gave a low growl. Thor, on the other hand, was the loudest out of all of them.

With a strangled yell, he threw his hammer at a dumpster, shattering the metal and spilling trash across the alleyway. Lightning lit the sky and thunder boomed, thousands and thousands of little drops of rain falling from the black clouds that blocked the night sky.

" _WHERE DID THEY TAKE THE MAN OF SPIDERS?!"_ Thor boomed, making Barton, who had been standing next to him, wince. He was going to end up completely deaf at this rate.

" _Oscorp!_ " Deadpool strangled out, as Stark's grip on his throat tightened. " _They took him to Oscorp!_ "

Stark's grip slackened and he frowned. "Oscorp? What does Oscorp have to do with this?"

"The scientists in Oscorp are the people who hired me to kidnap lil'Spidey." Deadpool explained. What? He didn't want to get his ass kicked by a load of overprotective superheros. "I didn't know Human Experimentation was involved until _after_ I handed him over. That's why I'm going to go break him out."

The Avengers blinked at him for a moment, before looking at each other. Banner shrugged.

Stark looked at Deadpool, then, with a another _whiz_ , something cold and metallic came from his gauntlet and pinned Deadpools neck to the building. Stark let go, ignoring how Deadpool was almost strangling himself, and turned to his team mates.

They had a hushed conversation, with many glances in Deadpools direction. Deadpool huffed, pressing his feet against the wall and trying to pull himself forward. He was soon making odd strangled sounds.

Then Iron Man's gauntlet grabbed the metal thing and pulled it off, causing Deadpool to fall to the floor. He rolled onto his back, looking up at the Avengers with his hands on his chest. "So... we gonna fight now? Gonna have an itsy bitsy dualy-dual?"

" _What?_ " Hawkeye asked, looking lost.

"Ignore him." said Captain America, before turning to the mercenary. "If you're going to rescue Spidey, we're coming with you."

"Yay, friendzies!" Deadpool exclaimed, throwing his arms above his head.

"But you're gonna be wearing _this_." Stark said, clasping a metal bracelet around Deadpools wrist. What was it with this guy and metal? They should have called him Metal Man.

" _Ooh_ , friendship bracelets!" Deadpool said, bringing his wrist up to his face so he could examine the bracelet. "How _fun_!"

"It'll electrocute you." Romanov said bluntly.

"Even _more_ fun!"

"Let's just go." Rogers said, beginning to walk away. "Before they can start their crazy little experiment."

"Yeah!" Deadpool said, jumping to his feet. "Deadpool and the Av _engers,_ fighting crime!" he sang. "Going out at night and having good times-"

"Will someone silence the Pool of Dead?" Thor growled.

"No problem." Romanov said, before spinning into a round-house kick and hitting Deadpool right in the forehead. Deadpool stopped dead (ha! Dead pun). The Avengers continued walking, not even glancing at him. Shaking his head like they do in cartoons, Deadpool jogged after them, shouting at the top of his lungs.

"DEADPOOL AND THE AV _ENGERS!_ FIGHTING CRIME! BREAKING INTO BUILDINGS TO SAVE LIL'SPIDEY IN TIME-"

 _" **SILENCE** , YOU INSUFFERABLE POOL OF DEATH!"_

* * *

Science-Doctors were surrounding Peter, ignoring the thundering they could hear outside and watching him as he struggled fruitlessly to break the metal restraints that held him to the table.

Richard took a silver power-saw off the metal tray that an old, female Science-Doctor held. He pressed a button on the handle and it began to whir, spinning faster and faster until it's sharp edges were blurs.

One of the Science-Doctors cut away the bandages around his abdomen and, for the first time, Peter got a good look at his injury. His stitches were torn and bloody, most of his stomach being covered in crimson. A large, purple bruise surrounded it, turning a sickly grey and yellow at the edges. Bits of torn stitches could be seen sticking out of his ripped skin. Peter suddenly understood why Steve had put his hand over his eyes. He felt like he was about to throw up.

Richard glanced at the injury, as two Science-Doctors began removing the stitches. A shiver wracked Peter's spine as their hands touched him, pain flaring through his stomach as the adrenaline finally wore off.

When the stitches were removed, the old Science-Doctor picked up a needle and injected into one of Peter's vain. Richard stepped forward, holding up the spinning saw.

Peter's eyes widened as what was happening finally set in. He was going to be dissected. By his own father, who was supposed to be _dead_ , no less. Why did his Aunt May have to go on that mountain climbing trip? She's barely been gone three days and already he's gotten himself into a huge mess.

The saw was inches from his stomach. Peter closed his eyes, turning his head to the side as he waited for them to cut him open. For him to become a Patient again. That's when it happened.

The metal restraint on his right hand creaked and groaned. Peter saw Richards eyes widen, before he tore his arm free and grabbed the mans wrist, pushing the electric saw into his shoulder. Richard screamed, taking a step back and tripping. The saw fell to the ground, spraying blood across the floor.

Peter grabbed the metal restraint on his other hand and tore it off, before reaching down and doing the same to his feet. Dimly, he realized that a siren was going off and that everything was flashing red.

A Science-Doctor aimed a gun at him, but Peter leaped off the table and over their head. That's when he realized almost every one of the Science-Doctors were pulling out guns. Dammit. At least they didn't look like they knew what they were doing.

Peter ducked as a bullet whizzed past his ear, sprinting forwards and ramming a Science-Doctor in the chest. He slammed into the wall, winded, his gun falling to his side.

 _BANG!_

A sharp pain made itself known in his shoulder, and Peter let out a small hiss. He spun around, eyes narrowing on the old, female Science-Doctor from before, who was pointing a shaky gun at him.

"St-Stand down, Patient 1-"

Red clouded his vision and fear gripped his chest. But then stubborn anger- no, _rage_ \- took over and Peter leaped forward again. The Science-Doctor screamed and there was another loud _BANG!_ followed being a burning pain in his upper leg. Then Peter was on the floor and he was on top of the Science-Doctor, and he was punching her in the face and she was screaming and screaming, but he didn't care. These people- these _Science-Doctors_ \- were evil. They ripped his life apart when he was only six, they experimented on him, they turned him into a Patient, they promised to make him _better_ , even though he didn't want to be.

But as Peter finally came back to his senses, he realized that his fist was bloody and so was the women's face. For a terrifying moment, he thought she was dead. Then he heard her strangled gasps for breath and he gave a small, shaky sigh of relief.

Standing, he realized the other Science-Doctors were running around, calling security. Richard was starring at him, a hand over his bloody shoulder. He was _smiling_ , a smile of pure satisfaction, a smile of triumph. A smile that send shivers wracking his spine and that chilled his bones and blood.

Peter realized, at the back of his head, that he was running. He was pushing past Science-Doctors and then suddenly he was smashing through a window, glass biting into his bare feet. He was sprinting down a hall, red lights flashing, people shouting but he couldn't make out what. He slammed into the first room he saw, locking the door behind him.

Heart pounding against his chest, Peter slowly slid down the side of the door, gasping in air as he tried to catch his breath. He sat there for a while, in that dark room, the only sound being his thundering heart and the distant sounds of a siren. Eventually, he caught his breath and his heart rate stopped trying to escape his body, and he was able to take in his surroundings.

He was in a break room. A coffee machine sat next to him, a small TV stood in the corner. Chairs were spread out, and a wooden table was littered with notebooks and empty foam cups. Against the far wall was a metal wardrobe, which was opened and showing spare clothes.

Peter climbed onto trembling feet and stumbled towards the wardrobe, completely ignoring the white lab coat that hung on a hook. He pulled out a pair of light brown slacks and a whit shirt, quickly pulling them on. The pants were a bit too big and he couldn't even fit his head through the shirt hole. Throwing the shirt back into the wardrobe as a loss cause, Peter instead grabbed a spare extension cord and tied around the belt loops of the pants, holding them up like a belt.

Nodding at the temporary clothing and knowing fine well that he probably looked like an idiot, Peter slipped out of the break room and into the hall, the sirens becoming clear and the red flashing lights filling his vision.

Taking a deep breath, he began running down the hall in what was, hopefully, the exit.

* * *

Tony was really getting sick of this night.

The Avengers (who were all still in their sleep clothes and barefoot) and their unwanted guest had squeezed themselves through a manhole and into the sewers, ignoring how they were probably all going to get sick after this. Tony, being the nosy genius that he was, had JARVIS lead them to the underground door leading into Oscorp.

And when they realized that they didn't have a key card to _open_ the door, Thor knocked it down with his hammer of worthiness.

Wincing as he stuck his head into the dark room, which was thankfully empty, Tony strolled inside with his suit-in-a-briefcase in his hand. At the moment, he didn't really care that he was in nothing but his boxers. At least his, which were just a plain red, weren't neon purple with little black hearts on them like Clint's.

"Are we having some sort of sleep-over mission?" Deadpool asked, not bothering to be quiet. "Should I strip down-"

 _"NO!"_

Steve walked over to the door and turned the handle, poking his head out into the hallway. He looked back at the others and gave a single nod, opening the door fully and stepping out. They followed close behind, Deadpool finally shutting up.

They walked down the hall, soon turning into another hall and going through a couple doors that Natasha or Clint would lock pick open for them. They ran into a few doors that needed a key card to open and, seeing how this was a stealth mission, as Bruce kindly explained to Thor, they had to try and find another way around.

At one point, Tony, Deadpool and Natasha had to squeeze through a vent, which made Tony have to force down an Anxiety Attack. He couldn't have one now, not when Spidey needed him. He and Natasha dropped down into another hallway on the other side of the door, which, from this side, could be opened by the push of a button.

The odd group continued walking for a while, hiding in closest's and behind corners whenever they came across someone. Tony was starting to wonder if they were lost, as they came back to the same four-way cross again, when the sirens went off, quickly followed by flashing red lights.

" _WHAT IS HAPPENING?!"_ Thor yelled over the noise.

"It's the emergency security!" Bruce answered. "Something's gone wrong in one of the labs!"

"Do you think it might be Spidey?" Clint asked.

Tony and Steve shared a look. If it was Spiderman, then that meant he was okay and hopefully escaping. But if it wasn't, then they might be in a lot of trouble.

Footsteps could be heard pounding towards them. Steve gripped Tony's shoulder, shoving him through the closest door. The others soon followed, closing the door behind them. Natasha leaned forward, pressing her ear against it. The people outside came to a stop, but it was unnecessary for them to strain their ears, as the people- probably guards- had to shout to hear each other over the sirens.

"Which lab are we to head to?"

"Er, Lab 83. Heard they're continuing an old experiment. Something like that Super Soldier Serum they used on Captain America. Turns out what they'd though to have been a failure had actually worked, it just took a while to show itself."

Tony felt Steve tense next to him and suck in a breath. Tony bit his lip, anger curling in his chest. Not at Spidey, of course, but at the scientists here at Oscorp. Had Spidey lied to them? Had he said he'd been bitten by a radioactive spider when, in reality, he was an escaped experiment? If so, Tony didn't really blame him. He would have probably done the same.

"Yeah, okay, we better- hey, who's that?"

Tony's eyebrows rose in surprise as he heard shouting, then gunfire. Something was smacked into the door they were hiding behind, then everything fell silent. Steve pulled his shield off his back and Natasha gripped a gun strapped to her hip.

Placing her other hand on the doorknob, Natasha looked at Steve, who gave her a small nod, before slowly turning the handle and opening the door.

Two unconscious guards were pushed aside by the door, and the pajama-clad Avengers plus Deadpool cautiously walked out. Tony looked around for a moment, not seeing who- or _what_ \- could have done this to the two guards.

Then Deadpool stepped forward, throwing his arms wide and grinning up at something hidden in the shadows of the ceiling.

"Spidey!"

* * *

Peter blinked down at the people who had just walked out of a storage closet, having a bit of a hard time adjusting to what the hell he was seeing.

The Avengers, in either boxers, joggy bottoms and, in Natasha's case, shorts and a tank top, with _Deadpool_ , who'd just kidnapped him. Okay, he was now 72% sure this was a really, _really_ weird dream.

"Spiderman?" Steve spoke up, following Deadpool's gaze. They couldn't see him, he realized. The red lights were still on, but since his head was ducked and he was sticking to the corner of the ceiling, it was hard for them to see his face.

"Yeah?" Peter said, licking his lips nervously.

"Are you alright, son?"

"I-I'm fine." he said. "W... Why are Stark and Barton in their underwear?"

"Hey, at least mine isn't neon purple!" Tony exclaimed, pointing at Clint, who glared at him.

"Spidey," Bruce said, ignoring the other two. "Can you come down? We really need to get out of here."

Peter shook his head frantically, causing the Avengers to frown.

"Why?" Steve asked. "Are you hurt?"

"They, er, they took my mask." Peter confessed.

Eyes widening in realization, the Avengers shared looks, before turning back to the young vigilante on the ceiling.

"Don't worry, we promise not to tell anyone who you are." Tony said, for once fully intending to keep his promise. "But you really need to come down."

Peter took a deep breath, closing his eyes. _I'm sorry, Gwen Aunt May._ Ever so slowly, he inched his way down the wall and onto the floor, standing in front of the Avengers. Their eyes widened a little, probably at how young he actually looked, but they made no comment. Instead their eyes trailed down to his chest. Steve gasped.

A bit confused, Peter looked down at his exposed upper body. It was covered in crimson red, mostly his abdomen. His stomach wound was clearly visible and bleeding again, blood was dripping from the bullet wound on his shoulder and you could see a bit of silver that showed the bullet was still lodged in it. The same was to be said for the one in his leg.

Bruce made to step forward, but then something rather surprising happened. A wall, made of pure, solid metal, slid down from the ceiling, cutting him, Thor, Natasha and Clint off from the rest of the group. They gave surprised yells, but then another wall came down, this time separating Peter and Deadpool from Tony and Steve. From the sounds of it, the same had happened on the other side.

" _SPIDEY!"_ Steve and Tony shouted from the other side of the metal wall. There were loud bangs, indicating that they had begun trying to punch it down. They only achieved a small, tiny dent from Steve's fist.

"I'm okay!" Peter yelled. "What's happened?"

"They must have been expecting this or something." Natasha said. Dimly, Peter realized the sirens had stopped, but everything was still flashing red.

"Natasha," Steve said. "Who are you with?"

"Thor." Natasha answered. "Clint's with Bruce. _Please_ tell me either you or Stark are with Spidey."

"Nope, sorry." Deadpool spoke up, wrapping an arm around Peter's shoulder. "But don't worry, I'll keep lil'Spidey safe!"

The Avengers groaned, with various "Oh no"s. Peter winced, inching away from Deadpool.

"You kidnapped me." he said.

Deadpool shrugged. "Yeah, but that was before I knew they were going to experiment on you. I _hate_ human experimentation."

"So you team up with the Pajama Gang to help rescue me?" Peter asked, distantly hearing the Avengers chuckle at being called the 'Pajama Gang.'

"In our defense," came Tony's muffled voice. "This all happened in the middle of the night."

"Yeah, pretty much." Deadpool said. He held up his wrist, which had a metal band on it. "And look! Iron Man gave me a friendship bracelet!"

"It's _not_ a friendship bracelet! It's to make sure you don't try to hurt any of us, mainly Spidey, and will electrocute you if you do!"

Peter couldn't help a small smile. At least they took some precaution in letting the mercenary come along.

"Right, so what do we do? If anyone's forgotten, we're all separated by metal walls and I don't really want to Hulk-Out at the moment. It could draw too much attention, especially if Spidey doesn't have his mask on."

"Banner's right," said Natasha. "We're going to have to split up and meet back at the entrance to the sewers."

"Are you sure?" Steve asked.

"Positive. It'll take too long to find a way around it. Deadpool knows where the sewer entrance is, he can lead Spiderman to it." Natasha said. "Besides, if we don't get going soon, guards are going to start showing up."

Steve sighed. "Alright, fine, fine. But I _swear_ , Deadpool, if you hurt a hair on Spidey's head-"

"I won't hurt him, jeez! Why would I rescue him only to hurt him? I mean, I _sedated_ him. Most people would have just hit him over the head."

 _Spidey sense._

Peter spun around, barely dodging in time as a dart whizzed past his head to embed itself into the metal wall. He swore. "Guys, we gotta go! We'll see you back at that sewer place."

"Okay, just be careful-"

"And put something around your injuries before you bleed out!"

But Peter was only half-listening, too busy ducking a guards punch and then hitting him under the chin. The guard fell and Peter grabbed his helmet and slammed his head back into the ground, knocking him unconscious. Deadpool had already taken care of the other two guards.

"Alright, Wade," Peter said, straightening. "Lead the way."

* * *

 **Yeah! Longest chapter yet! Over 4,000 words. Hope you enjoyed and please continue your brilliant reviews!**


	7. Chapter 7

The flashing of the red lights eventually came to a stop, and everything became quiet. The only sound was Peter and Deadpool's footsteps, their bodies tensed in preparation for a sudden battle, encase a group of guards rounded the corner. But everything was quiet. It was as if someone had just turned the sound off.

Deadpool took a right, then jogged over to an air vent, grabbing the slim metal and tearing it off, revealing the hole in the wall. He leaned down and crawled through head first. Peter followed, twisting his body so he could force the lid back over the air vent entrance. You probably wouldn't even notice it'd been ripped off unless you looked really close.

The two crawled through the vent on their stomachs, wiggling like warms. Peter, who was quickly starting to feel claustrophobic, kept having to stop so Deadpool wouldn't accidentally kick him in the head. This didn't last long though.

"Sorry." Deadpool said, peeking under his armpit to look at the vigilante behind him, who was rubbing his sore forehead. "At least I didn't do it on purpose."

"Yes, because that makes it _so_ much better." Peter said, with a sarcastic roll of his eyes.

They continued on, the minutes soon stretching into almost an hour. Peter was grunting now, starting to tire. But he was a bit surprised he didn't feel a burn in his muscles or at least a little sore. But he pushed this to the back of his mind, focusing on making his way through the cramped vent.

After what seemed like an age, Deadpool came to a stop. The vents had gotten a bit bigger now, enough for Peter to be able to squeeze in next to him. They peered through the small bars, watching two Science-Doctors talking bellow.

"-Dr. Parker's been sent to the infirmary with Josh and Claire." the male Science-Doctor said. "The Patient forced the saw into his shoulder and nearly beat Claire to death. Josh had a panic attack."

The female clicked her tongue in annoyance. "This is going to be trickier then I thought. Dr. Parker never should have let the Patient go. He should have convinced them to give it a few days for the serum to take full effect, or at _least_ have taken his notes with him."

"Do you think they'll find it?"

"Of course they will. The Patient's injured and there's a load of guards about. If they don't find it, it'll probably pass out from blood loss."

The male Science-Doctor looked around nervously. "Yeah- but I heard the Avengers are here. The _Avengers._ I-I hadn't expected _them_ to get involved."

"They're probably only doing it out of pity." the female sniffed. "Besides, I'm sure the guards'll find it before the Avengers. Then we can get back to the lab and actually _start_ the dissection-"

 _BANG!_

Peter blinked, surprised, to find Deadpool suddenly gone from his side and the air vent shaft busted open. The two Science-Doctors barely had time to scream before they were unconscious on the floor. Deadpool stood between them, his swords raised menacingly.

"No one speaks about my friends that way." he said, his voice once again dark.

Peter jumped down from the shaft, blinking in shock at the two fallen Science-Doctors. He looked at Deadpool. "That was completely unnecessary."

Deadpool shrugged, sheathing his swords. "Yeah," his voice was back to normal, Peter noted with relief. "But I doubt they were about to leave anytime soon." His mask twitched slightly, hinting that he was pulling a face behind it. "And they kept calling you 'it.'"

Peter let out a small breath, shaking his head a little. He couldn't be bothered arguing with him. "Let's just get going."

"Right." Deadpool said, giving a single nod. He spun on his heel, marching- like, actually _band marching_ \- towards the door. He marched in place as he stood in front of it, twisting the door handle and swinging it open, marching out into the hall. Peter followed, closing the door quietly behind him.

The duo walked down the hall, Deadpool still marching as if he was in a parade. They turned left, then right, then left again. They were taking another right when Peter came to a stop, blinking at the door they'd just come through.

"Wade."

Deadpool came to a stop, looking over his shoulder and still marching in place. "Yeah?"

"We've passed this door three times now." said Peter, jabbing a thumb at said door. "Do you even know where you're going?"

Deadpool finally stopped marching, turning on his heel to face the vigilante fully. He scratched the cloth that covered the back of his head, looking up at the ceiling. "Well... usually, I'd lie and say yes, but considering we've been going round in circles for the past ten minutes, I'm going to assume you know the answer."

Peter let out a frustrated groan, pinching the bridge of his nose. Things just kept getting better and better. "Do you even know where we _are_?"

The mercenary put his hands behind his back, shuffling his feet and looking at the ground like a misbehaved child. Peter sighed, letting his hand fall back down to his side. Great. Just _great._ Why did _he_ have get stuck with Deadpool?

"I'm taking the lead." Peter announced, walking past the mercenary. He may only know as much as Deadpool about where they were, but at least he'd _been_ here before when he had sneaked in and began working with Dr. Conners.

They went down a flight of stairs and came to another empty hall. Peter peaked his head around the corner to be sure, before stepping out. He and Deadpool were halfway down the hall when Peter's spidey sense went out and he came to a sudden stop, his hand snapping out to rest on Deadpool's chest, halting him.

"What is it, darling?" Deadpool stage-whispered. "Is the Doritos Man coming?"

Peter shushed him, straining his ears. He was greeted by the sound of many, heavy footfalls. Those must be the guards, unless Tony had decided to get out his Iron Man suit, which was unlikely.

"Someone's coming." Peter whispered, looking around for a place to hide. He lunged towards the closest door and yanked it open, pushing the mercenary in before closing it behind him. Peter pressed his ear against the door, holding his breath. The footfalls rounded the corner, walked down the hall, passed the door where they were hidden, and slowly disappeared.

Shoulders slumping, Peter let out a relieved sigh. "That was close."

"Ah, Spidey?" Deadpool said, tapping him on the shoulder. Peter blinked at him, before turning around to face a Science-Doctor holding up a tranquilizer gun in shaking hands. His faces was pale with terror.

Deadpool raised an empty, gloved hand. "Hello, I am Deadmax. Your personal death care companion."

The area around the Science-Doctor's groin darkened, and he dropped the tranquilizer, spinning on his heel and sprinting towards a door. He opened it, momentarily revealing a cleaning cupboard, before slamming the door behind him. The lock turned with a little _click._

Peter blinked, shaking his head. Then he noticed the glowing PC on the slim desk, opened and on desktop He grinned. Maybe they can find a map or something that will tell them how to get to that sewer entrance.

He jogged over to it, sitting himself in the swirly chair and grabbing the wireless mouse. Deadpool came up behind him.

"What are we looking for?" he asked. "Scary videos, videos that want to make you throw up, videos about cats..."

"We're looking for a map of Oscorp."

"... Videos about cats..."

Peter ignored him, instead going into the computers documents. He clicked on the search box, typing in _M_ _ap of Oscorp building._ He sighed, coming up with nothing.

Clicking on the little arrow, Peter went back to the main files and began scrolling down, looking for anything that'll catch his eye. He was halfway down when he stopped, blinking in shock.

 _Files on Superheros, Villains and Anti-Heroes/Villains_

He clicked on it, his heart jumping fearfully. The file opened to reveal a bunch of other files, labeled like how you'd title a book or a comic. There were things from _**Captain America: Worlds First Superhero**_ to **_Rocket Raccoon: Escaped Experiment_**.

"What the hell..."

Peter scrolled down, his blood running cold when he spotted his superhero name. **_Spiderman: Boy Behind A Mask_**. He clicked on it, scrolling through it. There were pictures of him saving people and swinging through the streets, but that's not what caught his attention. No, what caught his attention were the pictures of him as Peter Parker, from him pulling on his costume in an alleyway to him at school, holding his head up with his fist as the teacher went on and on about this and that. The picture seemed to have been taken through a window.

Next to the pictures, it told his origin story.

Peter took a deep breath, closing the file and leaning back in the chair. He ran his hand through his hair, shaking his head. How did this happen? How did these people get all this information on superheros? On _him?_ What if someone, like Loki (or was he dead? he couldn't remember), got their hands on it? What were these people planning to do with this information?

That's why he couldn't let them keep it.

"Wade," Peter said, the mercenary snapping to attention with an almost-mocking salute. "Find me a USB. Any one will do."

"Yes, _sir_." Deadpool said, stomping one foot for emphasis. He turned and once again began marching, opening drawers and slamming them shut when he didn't find what he was looking for. After about thirty-forty seconds, Deadpool marched back towards him, stomped his foot again like a solider, saluted and handed a slick, black USB over to him.

"Object found, _sir_."

Peter thanked him, taking the USB and slipping it into the slot. He opened the files, deleting whatever had already been on it and copying the Superhero/Villain/Anti-Hero-Villain files onto it. When that was done, Peter pulled it out of the slot and stuffed it into his pants pocket, before continuing his search for a map.

After a couple minutes, he found a layout of the Oscorp building, and memorized the route to a little storage room that had an entrance leading into the sewer. Once he was satisfied, he began to delete everything on the computer, from the files to little notes like _Remember to refill mini-fridge_.

When the computer had been completely whipped, Peter stood, grabbing the swirly chair he'd been sitting on and placing it under the handle of the cupboard door that the Science-Doctor was hiding in.

"Okay," said Peter, as he and Deadpool closed the door quietly behind them. "We need to go to the very bottom of the stairs and then through a door that will take us to the lower levels. From there, we'll go down a hall, take two lefts, a right, another left and then through a door that will go down some stairs into the storage room you and the Avengers came through. Got that?"

"Yu _p_."

"You sure?"

"Yessirrie."

"Absolutely, positively sure?"

"72%"

"That's good enough for me."

They made their way to the staircase and descended it 'funly' (meaning Deadpool hopped from bar to bar, while Spidey climbed underneath the stairs with his stickiness). They had just entered a hall where they were to go to another staircase, when a guard rounded the corner.

The vigilante and mercenary stood rooted to the floor, while the guard froze in the doorway. This only lasted for five seconds before the guard was shouting his friends.

"Shit _._ Open the door, open the door, _open the door, Wade-"_

 _"_ It won't open! I think it's jammed!" Deadpool said, slamming his full weight into the door.

"It says _pull_ right about the handle!"

Deadpool looked down at the bright yellow and red sticker. "Oh." He grabbed the handle, twisted it and pulled- it didn't budge.

"Dammit!"

A group of five or six guards rounded the corner, beginning to run towards them, aiming tranquilizer guns at them. "Step away from the unstable experiment!"

"Hey! I take offense to that!" said Deadpool, crossing his arms over his chest.

"He's talking about me." Peter hissed at him.

"Oh. I _also_ take offense to that!"

"You have until the count of three to get on your knees and drop any weapons." the guard continued. "One..."

" _RUN!_ " Peter yelled. He spun on his heels and sprinted down the hall, quickly skidding around the corner. The guards began yelling and there was the sound of triggers being pulled.

 _Ping! Ping! Ping!_

The tranquilizers smacked into the wall, one of them barely missing Deadpool's calf. The mercenary quickly caught up to him, running along side him. They rounded another corner and Peter skidded to a stop in front of a window, grabbing the latch and trying to yank it open. No point trying to get to the storage room anymore. But the stupid thing wouldn't budge. _God da-_

Peter yelped, stumbling backwards as the hilt of one of Deadpool's swords smashed into the window, spraying bits of glass onto the street bellow. Deadpool swiped away the sharp edges jutting out of the bottom of the windowsill, and swing his leg over it, jumping down in the alley way bellow.

Letting out a sigh as his heart slowed, Peter ran to the window as the sound of the running guards about to round the corner finally reached his ears.

"Hey!" a guard shouted. "Patient 1, stand down!"

But Peter leaped out of the window headfirst before they could do anything. The cold wind hit him full in the face, whipping his hair back and making his eyes water. As the ground got closer and closer, Peter stretched his arms out and pressed onto his palms- only to realize he still didn't have his web-shooters. He only had enough time for his eyes to widen before something rammed into him, forcing him to the ground faster.

He landed on a thick chest with an "Oof!" and the something grunted beneath him as it's back took the full blow of the fall. Peter blinked, shocked to find his bare chest resting against Deadpool's, whose arms were wrapped around him almost protectively. His chin sat on his collar bone. The mercenary lifted his head to look down at him.

"You okay?"

Peter, still a bit shocked, nodded. He scrambled to his feet, untangling his legs from Deadpools. When he was standing, he awkwardly offered a hand to him, who took it without hesitation, and hauled him to his feet. "Are- Are you alright?"

"Fine." Deadpool grunted. His back was covered in purple bruises and red scrapes, his costume torn and ripped. Peter winced, guilt clawing at his gut. But, to his surprise, the scrapes began to close, the small flow of blood coming to a stop, and the bruises began to fade. Within seconds, the only thing wrong was the ripped costume.

"H-How- ?"

"Healing factor." Deadpool explained simply, looking up at the broken window they'd just jumped from. The guards were already gone, probably running down towards them at that exact moment. "Got it from Wolverine."

"A- A _W_ _olverine_?" Peter asked in disbelief. He shook his head, deciding not to even try to make sense of it. They had more important things to deal with. "Those guards are going to be back soon. Probably with reinforcements. We should get into the sewers and get to that spot we're to meet the Avengers."

Deadpool stomped his foot, giving another one of his salutes. "Yes, sir, yes!" He spun on his heels and marched towards a manhole conveniently a little ways away.

Peter tried not to think about the locked door. What if none of the others got out? What if they were captured? What if the Science-Doctors experimented on them, like they tried with Peter? It would be all his fault; they'd come to rescue _him;_ they'd come because _he_ was there. If they were captured, if they were hurt... it would be all Spiderman's fault... all Peter's fault...

Pushing those thoughts to the back of hit mind as Deadpool pulled the manhole out the ground and jumped down into the sewers, ignoring the grimy ladder completely, Peter followed, swinging onto the ladders so he could pull the manhole cover back over the entrance.

He ignored the horrible, slimy, slippery feeling of the sewer floor as his bare feet landed on the path beside the trail of water. He'd been in the sewers before, of course, but not barefoot. Or shirtless. Or maskless. Or in too-big pants held up by an extension cord. You know what, never mind. You get it.

Peter had to push away thoughts of the Avengers getting dissected and experimented on as he and Deadpool walked in silence. Well, kind of silence. Deadpool was humming something that sounded suspiciously like 'Eye of the Tiger.'

That's when the voices met his ears.

"-are they? They should have been here over an hour ago!"

"Cap, calm down. I'm sure they just got held up."

"But what if he's bled out? You saw how bad that wound was, Clint, not to mention those bullets lodged in his shoulder and leg. What if they got caught? What if Deadpool betrayed us?"

"Steve, stop, you're making anxious."

"That's it, I'm going back in-"

"No need!" Deadpool shouted, his voice bouncing off the grimy walls in an echo. As they rounded the corner, he threw his arms up into the air as if he were presenting something amazing (pun not intended). "The Merc With A Mouth has arrived!"

The Pajama Gang perked up immediately, their faces melting into looks of relief.

"Spiderman, are you alright?" Steve asked, taking his hand off the handle of a grim-laced, rusty door.

Peter gave him a tired grin, shrugging. "I've been better. But I've also been worse."

"Let's just get out of here." Tony said, shoulders slumped in relief. He began leading them towards the closest manhole exit, which, thankfully, wasn't the one Peter and Deadpool had come in.

Thor effortlessly pushed the manhole out of place, where it clanged loudly against the road. A car came to a sudden stop inches from his head, beeping loudly. Thor winced, glared at the yellow taxi, and smashed his hammer into it's bonnet. The drive abruptly stopped honking.

"Wait, wait, wait." Peter said, as Steve gave him a little shove in the direction of the ladder. "I can't go up there without my mask, especially with you guys."

"Well, that's nice." Tony said sarcastically.

Peter rolled his eyes. "People will get suspicious if I'm seen with the Avengers. Who knows what'll happen?"

"Well, we don't really have anything-"

"I've got it."

Deadpool grabbed the bottom of his mask and pulled it over his head. Peter only had a moment to gap at his horrible, scabbed face before the mercenary pulled the mask over his own head, hiding his face just as well as his Spiderman mask would. It was weird, to say the least.

Peter was frozen on the spot, mostly from surprise then anything else, from the fact that he'd just had a very unfamiliar mask pulled over his head to the image of Deadpool's face, which was now grinning at him as if he was an artist's master piece. The scabs around the corner of the mercenary's lips cracked and began to leak blood and puss.

"It's suits you." Deadpool said.

Steve blinked, his mouth open in shock, before he shook his head to snap himself out of it and gave Peter another light shove in the direction of the ladder.

Peter stumbled, snapping himself out of his shock, and began to climb the ladder up to the top, where Thor was glaring at any car that honked at him. Most people had stopped either in shock or fear, because they were sitting in front of the _God of Thunder._ Who looked pretty pissed, to be honest.

Peter climbed out of the sewers, standing up fully to stand next to the Norse God, who gave him a somewhat confused look. Probably the mask.

The rest of the Avengers and the maskless Deadpool quickly followed, and the strange group were soon jogging towards an alley way. Peter jumped at the wall, the microscopic hairs on his hands and feet sticking him to it's surface, and began climbing up the side of the building. Thor flew up with a swing of his hammer, lander on the roof hard enough to make it crack. Bellow him, Peter heard the sound of Tony suiting up.

When Peter reached the top, Thor, Tony, Clint and Natasha were already there. Deadpool came up behind him, and Steve and Bruce climbed up from the ladder that was attached to the fire escape.

"Okay." Steve said. "Glad that's over."

"No kidding." Peter muttered. He pulled off the borrowed mask and handed it back to Deadpool, who pulled it back over his own head, hiding his scabbed face.

"Spidey." Bruce said, his eyes wide as he looked the vigilante up and down. "How- How are you still standing?"

"What?" Peter asked, brow furrowing in confusion.

Bruce pointed at his abdomen. "How can you stand straight like that when your abdomen's been torn open? The pain itself should have you throwing your guts up."

Peter blinked at him stupidly for a moment, before looking down at his exposed stomach. It _did_ look a lot worse then before. Some of the blood had dried around the edged, making it crusty and green puss trickled down his side. Suddenly, he realized that he couldn't feel it. It did, indeed, look _extremely_ painful. Then why couldn't he feel anything? The thought sent a shrill of terror down his spine.

"I- I can't feel it."

The Avengers blinked at him, looking surprised.

"What?" Clint asked. "How can you not feel that? Not even now?"

Peter shook his head, fear gripping his heart. Something was wrong. Something was very, _very_ wrong.

"Did they give you anything?" asked Natasha. "Before you escaped?"

"W-What?" Peter asked, before realizing how stupid that must have sounded. He tried to think back to when he'd been in the lab, but everything was blurry. He'd been in too much of a panic, too busy thrashing around and trying to escape to realize if they'd plunged a syringe into him or something.

Peter began to sway, his vision going blurry. A hand rested on his shoulder, steadying him a bit, but his vision didn't clear. Someone was talking but he didn't know who it was or what they were saying. The edges of his vision was darkening... he was seeing stars...

"Guys..." he slurred, bringing his hand to rest against his forehead. "I think somethings..." _Wrong_.

He barely had time to register he'd hit something hard before his consciousness ran away.

* * *

 **3,955 words! I'm thinking of adding Daredevil in at some point... okay, yup, he's going in. Anyway, this stories only going to get better! And don't worry, Deadpool _will_ return. He's just gonna be away for a little while.**

 **... crap, I think I'm leading to a Red Team thing... well, now I'm actually kind of leaning towards the idea. Anyway, Gwen'll probably be making an appearance soon.**


	8. Chapter 8

Everything burned. It was as if he was on fire, the flames coursing through his veins and wrapping around his bones and muscle. They got hotter and hotter with every heart beat, burning his brain, squeezing his heart and turning his lungs to ash. His skin was tingling, his eyes were bleeding and everything _burned_.

"... what did... to him... ?"

"Pain... unconscious... extremely dangerous..."

"... when... up... ?"

"... days... months... fever..."

"... could... Deadpool... ?"

"No... Oscorp... electrified..."

"...wait... Spy-?"

 _"-Peter!" Richard snapped, hands slamming down onto the table. His eyes narrowed onto the little boy, strapped down onto a cold metal table in nothing but boxers, his face twisted into an unforgiving sneer. "Stop struggling!"_

 _Peter shook his head, tears streaming down his small cheeks. He tugged at the metal restraints, trying desperately to break free, pulling and tugging and squirming on the freezing table. Richard growled, his eyes darkening to the point that they were pitch black. He raised his hand._

Slap!

 _The little boys head snapped to the side, his cheek turning red and burning. Tears rolled over the hand prints mark, but they did nothing to soothe the burning sting. "D-Da- ?"_

Smack!

 _This time, Richard had slapped his exposed stomach. Peter gasped, his eyes widening as pain spread through his belly to the tips of his toes and the ends of his hair. Something hot and wet was spreading underneath him. From the corner of his eye, he could see red liquid. Sticky, red liquid._

 _"Stop struggling, Peter!" Richard spat, spittle flying from his mouth and landing on Peter's face. "You're only going to make things worse on yourself."_

 _His struggles stopped. His cries turned to quiet whimpers. The tears kept falling._

 _Richard sighed, shoulders slumping in visible relief. "Thank you." He turned around to look at another Science-Doctor, giving her a small nod. The Science-Doctor nodded back, turning on her high-heels and marching out of Peter's view._

 _"Now, Peter." Richard said, clasping his hands behind his back. "Are you going to be a good little boy?" When the boy didn't answer, his jaw tightened. "Well?" he asked, eyes hardening voice rising. "Are you?"_

 _Peter bit his lip fearfully and nodded. Richard smiled again. His stomach churned, and he felt the sticky red liquid pooling around his shackled hands and seeping through the thin cloth of his boxers._

 _"Good... good..." Richard said, still smiling. He looked at something that Peter couldn't see, his smile widening. He turned to look back at Peter, taking in his small, shaking, crimson-covered form. "Begin the dissection."_

 _Flames._

 _Flares._

 _Burning._

 _Fire._

Pain.

* * *

Something rough and wet was being rubbed against his forehead. It traveled to his cheeks, then rubbed at the bridge of his nose and down his neck. The something was taken away as it finished scrubbing at his collar bone, and a rough hand pressed against his forehead. There was a satisfied grunt, and the hand tweaked at the tip of his nose before pulling away.

Peter's brow furrowed slightly in confusion. He moved his limbs, but they felt sluggish and heavy. The sound of liquid gently splashing against a wall met his ears, and the sticky red liquid pooling underneath his restrained form flashed before his closed eyelids. His heart jumped into his throat, his eyelids snapped open and his limbs seemed to finally be in working order.

His slippery hands gripped the edges of a large bath and Peter hauled his chest out of the red liquid, panic flooding his brain. His hand slipped on the baths edge, and Peter's head was under the liquid. He thrashed, panic squeezing his throat and he _couldn't breathe-_

A pair of hands, rough from hard work but gentle as if afraid to hurt him, grabbed him under the armpits and hauled him out of the liquid. Peter took in a gasp of air, which turned into a lung-hacking coughing fit. An arm wrapped around his chest, keeping him upright, and one of the hands pounded on his back.

When his coughing fit was over, Peter blinked open his eyes, breathing heavily. He looked around, confused, and his gaze met a pair of hazel eyes filled with concern and a hint of excitement. Peter blinked.

"Tony?"

The mechanic gave him a warm smile, shoulders slumping in relief. "Hey, Spidey. You okay?"

Peter blinked at him stupidly, before turning his gaze from Tony's face to the bath he was in. The red liquid was gone, replaced by clear water. That's when Peter saw that he was naked.

Face turning red as he realized he was _naked_ in front of _Iron Man_ , Peter let his shaking hand rest against the edge of the bath again, careful to make sure that he wouldn't slip. He swallowed, letting out a shaky breath, and looked up at Tony again.

Tony's face was twisted into a look of concern, but when Peter looked at him again, he gave him a smile. "Do you think you can stand?"

"Er... I-I'm not-" Peter yelped as he was suddenly lifted out of the bath, water dripping off him loudly. Tony adjusted him, carrying him bridal-style, being careful to keep his eyes on the vigilante's face and not to look anywhere else, less he embarrass the boy more.

Tony sat him down on the toilet, grabbing a fluffy white towel and wrapping it around him. He got another one and began drying Peter's hair. Chuckling as he made his hair stick up in random directions, Tony moved the first blanket so it covered Peter's lap and began drying his chest and arms with the second towel.

"So," he said. "What was all that about?"

Peter didn't answer, instead looking at anything but the man in front of him. Tony looked up at his task.

"Hey, Spidey. Hel- _lo_? There aren't any juicy flies here for you to gobble up, you know." Peter couldn't help but crack a small smile, making the mechanic grin widely. He returned to his drying.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Tony asked.

"Um..." Peter frowned, raising his head to look at nothing in particular. He thought back to him and Deadpool jumping out a window, going to the sewers, meeting up with the Avengers, Deadpool lending him his mask, climbing up onto the building, realizing he should be in very intense pain and then... nothing. "Passing out. What happened after that?"

"We took you back to the Tower." Tony began. "Deadpool went off to do whatever and Bruce had a look at you. Those scientists gave you some _really_ strong pain killers; even stronger then the ones Bruce had given you before. Can't remember what they're called, but while they were keeping you from passing out or feeling anything, they could have killed you if you'd been up and about any longer."

They fell into silence, as Tony moved down to dry his legs. It didn't last long, though. "Do you know what Oscorp wanted with you? It must have been something big if they were desperate enough to hire Deadpool."

"Experiments." Peter mumbled. "They-" his voice cracked, but he swallowed and continued. "They're the same people that experimented on me when I was little. I think they thought that I got my powers from it, even though it nearly killed me... They strapped me onto a table and tried to dissect me... I was able to break free and made a run for it."

Tony was silent for a while, completing his drying and setting the second towel aside. He stood and bent over the bath, reaching in and unplugging it. The water began to drain out.

"Does this have anything to do with the people that attacked you?" Tony asked, as the bath fully emptied. Peter shrugged, wrapping his arms around his torso in an attempt to at least _feel_ like he was wearing something.

Sensing his discomfort, Tony walked over to a shopping bag sitting in the sink and opened it, pulling out a pair of red and blue pajama bottoms. He threw it to the vigilante, who caught it. "Put those on. I had Pepper go out and get you some clothes, since I doubt any of mine or the others will fit you."

Pulling the towel off his lap as Tony turned around respectfully, Peter pulled the bottoms on, wiggling slightly to get them over his butt while not leaving his seat on the toilet. He wasn't entirely sure he could stand on his own, and he didn't want to risk needing Iron Man to help him, half-naked, off the floor.

When the pants were on, Tony turned back around and grabbed a red t-shirt from out the bag, rolling it up so his head could fit through the hole easily, not unlike he'd done when he was helping Peter into a shirt before. Peter ducked his head through the shirt hole, followed by his arms. Tony pulled the shirt over his abdomen, which he realized was heavily bandaged with water-proof wrappings.

Tony stepped back, leaning against the wall in front of the toilet and smirking. Peter blinked at him, confused, before looking down at his shirt. Ah. It had a black Spiderman logo on it. Dammit, Stark. Or was it that Pepper person he should be cursing?

"How long have I been out?" Peter asked, deciding to ignore the shirt-thing all together.

"Two days. It's Saturday now." Tony answered. "How are you feeling?"

"Alright, considering."

Tony smiled. "Good." He turned towards the closed door and grabbed something, pulling it out of it's folded form and setting the large wheels onto the tiled floor, wet from the vigilantes small panic attack. Peter groaned at the sight of the wretched wheelchair. Tony's smile only widened.

Bastard.

Gripping him under the armpits like he'd seen Steve do, Tony lifted Peter off the toilet seat and into the wheelchair, before bending down, grabbing the discarded towels and throwing them into the hamper. Taking the wheelchairs handles, Tony opened the bathroom door, flicked off the lights and wheeled Peter into the hall and into the elevator.

"Better get used to this." Tony said, as he leaned over to press one of the elevators buttons. "Bruce has restricted you to the wheelchair of _dooooom_!" Peter groaned loudly, making Tony cackle.

The elevator opened with a _ding!_ and Tony wheeled him into the Avengers living room. Spotting Steve making something in the kitchen, he began walking towards them. "Hey, guys! Lookie, lookie! Sleeping Beauty has awoken!"

Five heads snapped towards their directions and broke into large grins. Bruce set his book down as Tony parked Peter in front of the kitchen table, and keeled down in front of the vigilante. Looking him up and down in approval, Bruce raised his hand and felt his forehead.

"Your fever's broke, which is very good." he said. "And now that you're not running around getting kidnapped, your abdomen's healed almost completely. Inhumanely so. Healing factor, I'm guessing?"

Peter nodded, but stopped mid-nod. Eyes widening, his hand shot up to his face, feeling for a mask he already knew wasn't there. He groaned, leaning his head back. Seven people- not to mention the Science-Doctors at Oscorp- have seen him without his mask on. Brilliant. Just plain _brilliant_.

"Spidey? Are you okay?" Steve asked.

"Peachy. Just peachy." Peter muttered, closing his eyes. How come when someone's trying to keep a secret identity, everyone just randomly finds out who he is? No one seems to get the concept of the mask!

"Hey, that wasn't out fault!" Tony said. Oh great, he's thinking out loud again.

"Well, no one _does_ seem to get the concept of the mask!" Peter said, bringing his head back up to look at them. "I try really hard to keep my identity a secret and everyone just walks all over it and finds out I'm Peter Parker!"

"We, er, didn't know your name." Natasha said from where she sat at the table. Peter blinked dumbly at her, before letting out a long sigh and leaning his head back again.

" _Dammit_."

Tony snorted. "Right, so, _Peter Parker_ ," he said, earning himself a glare from said teen. "Are you hungry? I think lunch's ready."

Before Peter could answer, Bruce had already grabbed the wheelchairs handle bars and was pushing him towards the end of the table, where he usually sits. Clint began dishing out glass bowls and spoons, as everyone else sat down. Steve grabbed the silver pot off the stove, picking up the spoon-thingy to scoop up the most-likely-soup inside it and put it in the bowls.

Yup, it's soup.

"I take it I won't be leaving any time soon?" Peter asked, as the others sat down and began spooning the tasty liquid into their mouths. They nodded, not looking up from their lunches.

Peter sighed, picking up his own spoon. Natasha swallowed the soup in her mouth.

"Even if you were completely healed," she began. "You wouldn't be going anywhere. There are obviously people out to get you, and they'll go as far as to break every law in the book to get to you."

"So, what are you saying?" asked Peter, though he had a pretty good idea on what her answer was.

"What I'm saying," said Natasha, leaning forward a little to look at him properly over Thor, who had his whole face in his bowl and didn't seem to even know anyone was talking. "Is that these people want you for a reason. And we need to find out why."

"You told me that they were the same people who had experimented on you before, right?" Tony said, gaining everyone's attention. Thor finally brought his head up from his bowl. "Did they say anything about what they were doing to you?"

Peter licked his lips nervously, dropping his spoon back into his bowl as he leaned back in his wheelchair, trying to remember if they'd told him what they were going to do. "They were trying to recreate the Super Soldier Serum." Out the corner of his eye, Peter saw Steve tense. He continued.

"They had been experimenting on animals, and I guess they couldn't get a human subject so my dad offered to use me. It almost killed me."

"You know," Bruce said, looking thoughtful. "The only reason I'm apart of this team is because I'm the Hulk. Otherwise I'd be completely useless in battle. And the only reason I have the Hulk is because I tried to recreate the Super Soldier Serum."

"My pap was obsessed with it as well." said Tony. "If he wasn't spending all his time looking for Cap and trying to recreate the serum, I would have probably turned out as a very different person. I might not have ever become Iron Man."

"The Black Widow Program was inspired by the serum." Natasha said, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. She shrugged when they all looked at her. "That's the rumor, anyway."

"So," said Steve slowly. He looked almost guilty. "Half of the Avengers... is because of Erskin?"

They sat in silence for a moment, no one moving. Then Thor snatched Clint's bowl out from under him and began drinking it, swatting blindly at the archer as he jumped forward with a yell, trying to get his soup back.

"Barton, there's still some in the pot-" Tony cut himself off as Thor jumped to his feet, grabbed the metal pot off the stove, tipped his head back and began gulping it down.

Smacking his lips as he finished, Thor placed the pot back on the stove, gave his stunned friends a toothy smile and walked out of the kitchen to sit on the couch.

"He needs a hobby." Tony declared, after a moment of silence. Clint's shoulders slumped and he slid back into his seat, soupless.

"He has a hobby." Bruce snorted. "Eating."

"Yeah," Clint grumbled. " _My_ food."

"Do be such a baby." said Natasha, rolling her eyes. She pushed her half empty bowl towards him. "You can have the rest of mine, if you were enjoying it that much."

"Hey," Steve said, as Clint happily began gulping down Natasha's soup. "My cooking's _is_ that enjoyable, thank you very much."

"Anyway," Peter said, suddenly realizing they'd just gotten completely off track there. "If I'm stuck here for who knows how long, can I _at least_ swing by my place and get a few things? Like, I don't know, _my own clothes_ would be nice."

The Avengers (besides Thor, who could be heard getting angry with the TV remote) shared surprised looks, obviously not having thought of that.

"Well," Steve said slowly, turning the thought over in his head. "You're still injured and those scientists are still after you, but I don't see the harm if one of us drive you."

Peter rolled his eyes. "Knowing Spiderman's secret identity just isn't enough for you, is it? You have to see where he _lives_ too."

"Hey, it's either that or borrow our clothes. I think Natasha's skinny jeans will look very nice on you." Tony grinned, not faltering at the glares he got from both Peter and Natasha. "What? They would."

The young vigilante sighed, leaning his head back for the third time that afternoon. They already knew his identity. Would it be so bad if they knew where he lived as well? This was the _Avengers_ , after all. He doubted they would spill his secret, or his home address, to the entire world.

Besides, he would really like some of his own clothes.

"Oh, alright." Peter sighed, defeated. "But _no one_ tells _anyone_ about this. I mean it. Don't even _think_ about it."

"We promise." Steve said. The others nodded, Thor shouting "I hereby swear to the Man of Spiders, that I will _never_ reveal the location of his home or the name that be his and his family!" from the living room. Peter smiled, despite himself.

"Okay, lets go." Clint said, standing up and placing the empty bowl in the sink to wash later. Peter pushed himself away from the table, only for Bruce to lean over and grab onto the armrest, pulling him back.

Seeing his confused look, Bruce gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry, er, Peter, was it? You've gotta take more of that medicine."

Peter gaped at him for a moment, before he tried to push away from the table again, more urgently this time. Someone came up behind him and grabbed him under the armpits, hauling him out the wheelchair and onto the table. His back was pressed against a chest, strong arms wrapping around him, pinning his arms to his side.

He struggled, his feet kicking out and nearly hitting Bruce in groin, who was carrying a bottle of that stupid, disgusting white medicine.

"Come on, Spidey." said Steve, at least sounding sympathetic. "Two spoonfuls and then we can drop by your house. We'll give you some orange juice to wash the taste out."

Sure enough, Natasha was standing by, holding a glass of orange juice.

Peter stopped struggling with a groan, looking at Bruce desperately. The man winced, and held the spoon out. Peter sighed. It couldn't be that bad, right? It was probably just his memory messing with him and he'd overreacted the first time. It's not like _anything_ can taste that bad, right?

He was wrong.

* * *

"Take a right here."

The flashy looking car turned down a street in Queens, stopping outside a small house, a comfortable living space for about two or three people. Tony, Steve, Bruce and Clint clambered out, Peter's arm wrapped around Clint's neck in an attempt not to strain his injuries as much.

Bruce unfolded the wheelchair and, once Peter was sitting, Steve took hold of the handlebars. "This one here?" he asked. Peter nodded, and they began walking up the steps, Steve lifting the wheelchair a couple inches off the ground effortlessly.

"It's locked." Tony said a moment later, looking over his shoulder at Peter. "Do you have a key or something?"

"Under the mat."

The mechanic bent down and lifted up the doorstep mat, revealing a small bronze key. He fitted it into the doors lock and opened it, allowing everyone to go in before him and closing the door behind him, stuffing the key in his jeans pocket to put back under the mat later.

"Upstairs?" Steve guessed, glancing at the hallway's staircase. Peter nodded, and the Soldier once again picked up the wheelchair and began making his way up the stairs onto the second floor. Peter heard the fridge in the kitchen being opened.

"That's my room there." Peter said, pointing to the door leading to his bedroom, once he and Steve reached the top of the stairs. Steve nodded, looking around at the pictures on the walls curiously. Most of them were of Peter himself, from the time he rode his first bike to the time he won that science fare when he was fourteen. The most recent one was of him, Gwen, Aunt May and Gwen's mom, taken two months ago.

Steve opened the door to his bedroom and allowed Peter to take control of the wheelchair, turning the wheels and reaching his foot out to kick away a few stray clothes and junk.

Thank _god_ he didn't have that Iron Man poster anymore.

Tony would never let him live it down.

Peter leaned forward in his wheelchair and pulled his closet open, grabbing his school bag and zipping it open. He turned it upside down, dumping all the books, notes, pencils and forgotten bits of paper onto the floor. He would clean it up when he got back.

Leaning forward in his seat a little, Peter grabbed some clothes and stuffed them in his backpack, not bothering to fold them. Peter backed out of the closest and shut the door with his foot, before wheeling over to his desk and grabbing his phone, laptop and their chargers.

Peter stuffed these in his backpack, along with a few other things. He zipped it up and sat it in his lap, leaning back in his seat again and looking resting his hands on the wheels, going backwards and knocking _A Game of Thrones_ off his desk.

"Is that everything?" Steve, who was still standing in the doorway patiently waiting, asked. When Peter nodded, he came forward and grabbed the wheelchairs handles, plucking the backpack out of the vigilantes lap and swinging it over his own shoulder. He backed out of the room, maneuvering around a few stray items on the floor, and closing the door.

"Anything else or is that it?" the Soldier asked.

Peter shook his head. "No, that's everything. Should last me a while."

Steve smiled at him, before making his way back to the stairs. He picked up the wheelchair again, setting it down gently in the hallway. Not seeing Tony, Bruce or Clint anywhere, Steve began pushing Peter in the direction of the living room and kitchen.

Tony lay sprawled out on the couch, half-asleep, Bruce was looking at the photos on the walls and shelves with a small smile, and Clint could be seen through the kitchen doorway with his head in the fridge.

"Yeah, sure, make yourselves at home." Peter muttered, gaining Bruce's attention. The scientist smiled at him apologetically.

"Sorry," he said, gesturing to Tony, who seemed to have no idea what was going on around him. "I told him not to, but he just... yeah. Clint, put that chicken back."

Clint's shoulders slumped, and he reluctantly but the raw chicken back in the fridge. Next moment, he had a pudding cup in one hand and a large spoon in the other. Peter shrugged. It's not like he or Aunt May will be here for a while; the food will just go off.

Steve, frowning disapprovingly at both Tony and Clint, walked over to the back of the couch, bent down and lifted it up, causing the dozing billionaire to fall off it onto the floor with a yell. Clint spat chocolate pudding everywhere, dropping to his knees and leaning forward, clutching his stomach as he yelled with laughter.

"Wha-? Jar'is? Did you... oh, hey, Bruce." Tony slurred, rubbing his eyes as he finally took in his surroundings and seemed to remember where and what they were doing. "So... nice couch you've got, Pete."

"Thanks." said Peter, smiling a little in amusement. Clint let out one last snort of laughed, before picking himself up off the floor and grabbing a dish towel to clean up the pudding he'd spat out.

"Right, so, got everything you need?" Bruce asked, clapping his hands together. Peter nodded at him, as Steve pulled the backpack up a little so it was in a more comfortable position.

"Where do you get these pudding cups?" Clint suddenly asked, mouth full and face covered in pudding. He spooned some more into his mouth. "They're _delicious_!"

"Er, I think we get them from this little grocery store a little ways from here. Can't remember what it's called." Peter shrugged. "Are we going back to the Tower now?"

"Yup, back to the Tower of the Avenged!" Tony exclaimed, falling onto one knee and pointing at the far wall.

"That's not even the direction of the Tower." Bruce pointed out.

"Oh..." Tony spun on his knee to point in the other direction, only to fall onto his side. He jumped to his feet almost immediately, straightening his t-shirt. "Right, to the Iron-Manmobile!"

The mechanic marched out of the living room and into the hallway, flanked by the soldier, man-monster, pudding-covered-man-that's-still-eating-pudding and the wheelchair-restricted-vigilante. Tony stepped to the side of the door and did a mock bow as Steve wheeled Peter out, causing the former to roll his eyes. They were soon followed by Bruce and Clint, and it was when he turned to close the door that he spotted it.

Brow furrowing in confusion, Tony pulled the paper off the door and allowed his eyes to skim over his, eyes widening slightly. How had they not seen it before?

"Hey, Spi- er, Peter!"

"Yeah?" Peter shouted back, as Steve sat his backpack in the trunk.

"You've got a letter from the..." Tony's eyes returned to the name on the paper, although he still remembered who it was. "Child Protection Agency. Apparently they'd come by earlier today but since you weren't in..."

Peter wheeled over to the bottom of the steps, as Tony shut the door and began descending them, handing the paper to the vigilante. Peter read the paper's text in record time, but only seemed even more confused. "Why would the Child Protection Agency be at my house?"

"Well, does, er, anyone live with you?" Steve asked, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. Peter didn't seem to notice, to focused on the letter.

"Yeah," he muttered almost absent mindlessly. "I live with my Aunt."

"Where is she now?" Bruce asked.

"On some mountain climbing trip." Peter answered, finally tearing his eyes away from the note. He shrugged. "Maybe they just wanted to check up on me? Or got the wrong house? They left a phone number, so I guess I'll call them later."

"You sure it's nothing important?" Steve asked, as they began making they way back over to the car.

Peter shook his head. "Nah, it's unlikely. The only thing I can really think of is that they found out what I do in my free time. But I'm pretty sure there would be police surrounding the place if that happened."

Steve nodded, taking the letter and tucking it away neatly in one of the backpacks pockets, before closing the trunk. Tony helped Peter into the back seat, folding up the wheelchair as well, before climbing into the drivers seat. Clint licked the remaining pudding off his spoon, before pointing it at the Super Soldier, who had ridden in the front on the way over.

"Shotgun!"

* * *

 **I had to actually google _batmobile_ to make sure I was spelling it right, because I was writing _Iron-Manmobile_ and just sat there starring at it for a moment thinking 'this is not right, I keep reading Iron Man mobile, as in the phone and imagining an actual Iron Man mobile.' **

**It was annoying, but I am 78% sure that that is how you spell it.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Yeah, I know, slow update. I'll try to get to work on the next chappie as soon as possible. Also, I'd like to thank the people that helped me find that Avengers fic. This chapters for you guys!**

* * *

The elevator gave a welcoming little _ding!_ as the metal doors slid open smoothly, and Peter was wheeled out, backpack in his lap and flanked by Steve, Bruce, Tony and Clint, the latter of which licking the last of his chocolate pudding from his face.

Peter was sat on the couch, the wheelchair next to him in case he needed to go to the bathroom or something, and he pulled his backpack up to sit next to him, unzipping it and pulling out his phone. He needed to contact Gwen; she was probably going to murder him painfully and slowly as it was.

Even if it wasn't exactly his fault. Not like he _asked_ to get stabbed repeatedly in the abdomen, restricted to a wheelchair in the Avengers Tower, then kidnapped by a mercenary with a bipolar disorder and discover his dad was alive, insane and out to get him.

Yup. He shouldn't have gotten out of bed that morning.

Unlocking his phone, Peter mentally winced at all the missed phone calls and messages from both Aunt May and Gwen. He opened his contacts and selected Gwen's number, holding the phone up to his ear. It ringed for a few seconds, before a hopeful voice answered.

 _"Hello?"_

"Hey, Gwe-"

 _"PETER?!"_

The poor vigilante jumps an inch off the couch, dropping his phone in the process. It landed on the floor with a _smack!_ but was thankfully undamaged. But Peter's relief was short lived, as Gwen's voice began to scream out of the rectangular device in a way that almost reminded him of a banshee.

 _"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? I'VE BEEN WORRIED SICK! YOU DON'T ANSWER YOUR PHONE, YOU DON'T ANSWER MY TEXTS, YOU DON'T TURN UP AT SCHOOL, AND YOU'RE NOT EVEN AT YOUR HOUSE WHEN I COME BY TO SEE IF YOU'RE OKAY! I WAS_ THIS _CLOSE TO CALLING THE POLICE TO SEARCH FOR YOU! I'VE BEEN GETTING TEXTS FROM YOUR AUNT MAY ASKING WHY YOUR NOT ANSWERING HER CALLS AND I HAD TO LIE TO HER AND SAY THAT YOU BROKE YOUR PHONE, BECAUSE WHAT ELSE WAS I SUPPOSED TO SAY? YOU'VE BEEN GONE FOR FOUR DAYS, PETER! YOU DON'T JUST DISAPPEAR LIKE THAT AND THEN REAPPEAR SUDDENLY, YOU COULD HAVE AT_ LEAST _STOPPED BY MY HOUSE OR PULLED ME INTO AN ALLEY OR_ SOMETHING! _YOU DON'T JUST LEAVE YOUR GIRLFRIEND LIKE THAT, YOU SICK SON OF A FREAKING GUN!"_

Gwen stopped now, her breaths coming in short pants. Peter felt his face burn, and he heard Tony laughing somewhere off on the sidelines.

" _Who's that laughing?"_ Gwen asked, having thankfully calmed down after her venting.

"That's- That's Tony..." Peter muttered, licking his dry lips. He bent down and grabbed his phone, putting it off speaker and back onto his ear. He gave Steve, Nataha, Thor, Clint and Bruce a small glare, who were grinning at him. Clint wiggled his eyebrows. Tony was on the floor, his laughs slowly coming to a cease.

" _Where have you been? Where are you_ now _?"_ asked Gwen.

"Well, right now, I'm in Avengers Tower."

Silence followed his words. Then, Gwen spoke up, voice demanding.

 _"Explain."_

Peter explained everything, from the attack he couldn't properly remember to getting kidnapped by Oscorp and escaping and then finally the letter on his front door. He didn't mention his father or why Oscrop wanted him. He'd have to explain that later, in person.

At some point, Tony and Bruce wandered down to the lab, Natasha began reading a book, Steve put headphones in and dozed on the couch, Thor put on the TV and Clint wandered off somewhere. Not once did any of them or Gwen interrupt him.

When Peter finally finished explaining what had happened the past four days, Gwen was quiet for a moment. The only sound was Thor flicking through various TV channels in search for something decent to watch.

" _I think you should give the CPA a call."_ Gwen finally said. " _It could be_ really _important_."

"Alright. See you later?"

 _"You better."_

Peter sat his phone down on the couch beside him and began rummaging through his bag for the CPA letter. When he found it, he dialed the number written at the bottom and waited, making brief eye contact with Natasha before she returned to her book.

 _"Hello, this is Clara Saint of the Child Protection Agency, how may I help you?"_

"Er, hey." Peter said, a bit unsure as to what he was supposed to say. "I'm, er, Peter Parker. You left a note on my front door this morning?"

 _"Oh, yes, Mr. Parker. We've been waiting for you to call. Is it alright if we meet at your place in an hour or two?"_

Peter blinked, startled. "Er, well, it really depends if the matters important or not. I still don't know why the CPA showed up at my house. What's this about?"

 _"Oh, well, I'm sorry for the confusion."_ Saint said, her voice laced with something that sounded like... sympathy? Pity? He wasn't sure. _"It's, er, it's about your aunt, Peter."_

Peter blinked. Then again. "My- My aunt?" His blood had run cold, his stomach churning so badly he felt bile rise up in the back of his throat. He swallowed it back down, turning his attention back to the person on the other end of the phone. Natasha had looked up from her book and Thor's attention was off the TV and on him.

"What about her?"

 _"There was an... accident, in the mountains. It's best we discus this in person. When can we meet?"_

"Oh, uh, right now's fine." Peter said, absentmindedly fiddling with his t-shirt. Steve had taken his headphones out and was giving him a concerned frown.

" _Great! Great... I'll see you in thirty minutes?"_

"Yeah. Bye." He hung up.

Peter looked dumbly at his phone for a moment, before lifting his head up to look at Steve, Natasha and Thor, who were all giving him concerned looks. He must look as horrible as he felt.

Then he sprang to his feet, grabbing the spare web-shooters he always kept in his backpacks side pockets. He needed to get back to Queens, and web-slinging was the fastest way. Too hell if anyone saw Spiderman swinging around New York in Spidey-Themed pajamas; this was his _aunt_ for gods sake.

He'd do anything for her.

The three older heroes also jumped to their feet, but Peter ignored them, stalking towards the window and flinging it open with probably more force then necessary. One of his legs were already out when someone grabbed him under the armpits, not unlike how Steve had done when he'd first woken up, and hauled him away.

Peter gave a small yell, elbowing the person- either Thor or Steve, judging from their bulk- in the gut. The person grunted, but their grip on him only tightened. Peter lashed out, trying to twist out of his captors grip, only to find himself suddenly on the floor, someone sitting on his back and pinning his arms to floor. He felt someone else sit on his legs.

"Spidey. Calm. Down." Steve, the one sitting on him, said. He probably wasn't even using his full weight.

Reluctantly, Peter stopped thrashing, instead slumping against the ground and leaning his forehead against it's cool surface, taking in deep breaths through his nose, trying to force his heart rate down. Steve began running his hand through the vigilantes hair soothingly.

"What's wrong?" Steve asked after a moment.

"I need to go back home." Peter said, twisting a little so he could look up at Steve. "The Social Worker said something's happened to my Aunt."

Steve's expression immediately softened and he stood up, pulling the vigilante to his feet. "Come on," he said, pushing him into the wheelchair and wheeling him towards the elevator. "We'll drive you."

"But if I web-sling-"

"No."

Peter sighed, resigned.

"JARVIS," Steve said, looking up a the ceiling. "Tell Tony what's happened."

 _"Of course, Captain Rogers."_

The elevator doors closed in front of Steve and Peter and began to descend. They stopped by one of the Avengers personal floors- Steve's, probably- and got him a pair of stretchy joggy bottoms and pair of Bruce's shoes (Peter decided not to ask why they were in Steve's personal floor), which was the closest fit they would probably get, so he wouldn't be meeting the social worker in his pajamas.

"Wait, how am I supposed to explain why Captain Americas with me and why I'm in a wheelchair?" Peter asked as the elevator doors closed in front of them, frowning up at the Captain. Steve looked at the wall thoughtfully.

"I'll pretend to be your distant cousin or something. No one really knows I'm Captain America when I'm not in uniform or when there's not a poster or something of me near by. And I suppose we can leave the wheelchair in the car this once. Not like you'll be running around."

Peter gave him a grateful smile, as the elevator door opened into the garage. Tony was already there, in the drivers seat of one his fancy cars. Peter was loaded into the backseat, the wheelchair into the trunk, and Steve kicked Tony out of the drivers seat and into the passengers, since he'd crashed into somebodies garden fence on the way home.

The car ride seemed to last for hours to Peter, but in reality it was only ten minutes before they were pulling into his driveway, a nice but small grey car parked outside his house and a kind looking women in a pencil skirt and carrying a brief case standing outside the front door.

Tony helped Peter out the car, running a quick eye over him to make sure his injuries weren't bothering him too much. They walked up to the porch, the social worker looking at Steve and Tony, who was wearing a baseball cap and black glasses, curiously.

"Hello," she said, smiling at Peter. "You must be Mr. Parker." Peter gave her a hesitant smile, shaking the woman's hand.

"I am Ophelia Cluster. We talked on the phone." she said, before looking at Steve and Tony. "And whom might you be?"

"Oh, er, I'm Steve Rogers." Steve said, shaking the women's hand as well. "I'm Peter's cousin."

Miss. Cluster smiled. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Rogers. And... you?" she looked at Tony expectantly.

"I'm- I'm, er- Steve's boyfriend." Tony blurted, making Steve's cheeks tint pink and Peter to hold back a snort and a grin. Tony himself gave Steve an apologetic look out the corner of his eye, before hooking his arm around the soldiers in a show of affection.

Cluster bought it, giving the two a smile that was obviously meant to mean she had nothing wrong with gays, but only made Peter's chest hurt from having to hold back his laughter as Tony gave her his award winning smile and Steve an awkward, god-must-hate-me grimace.

Peter fished the key out from under the carpet and unlocked the door, allowing Cluster, Tony and Steve entry before closing the door behind him and showing them to the living room.

Cluster sat down in his Uncle Ben's old armchair, and Peter was desperately shoved to the middle of the couch by Steve so he didn't need to sit next to Tony and pretend to be his boyfriend. Cluster didn't seem to notice, setting her briefcase own on the coffee table.

"What's happened to my Aunt?" Peter said, as the women opened her mouth to say something. She didn't seem that surprised at his interruption, probably having expected it.

"This might come as a shock, Peter." Cluster said slowly, leaning back in her chair and folding her hands in her lap. "There was an... accident, in the mountains."

"An accident?" Peter frowned, heart jumping into his throat. "What sort of accident?"

"Well... do you remember the man that killed your uncle?"

"Of course I do." Peter snapped. Steve laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Blond hair, star tattoo... what does this have to do with my aunt?"

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, Peter." Cluster said, giving Peter a sad look that made him clench his fists. "But we have reason to believe that the man that killed your uncle was at the mountain where your aunt and her friends were climbing. He had a sniper with him."

Peter felt his blood run cold with icy terror. Steve's grip on his shoulder tightened almost painfully, but he didn't notice. His heart was pounding in his chest, his stomach churning, bile rising at the back of his throat. This wasn't happening. Please tell him this wasn't happening.

Cluster took a deep breath and continued. "Your aunt and her friends were halfway up the mountain. May Parker climbed ahead of her friends. He had a clear shot..."

Tears began to leak from his eyes, sliding down his cheeks and dripping off his chin. He began to slowly shake his head in denial. She was lying. She _had_ to be lying!

Ophelia Cluster looked him straight in the eye, filled with the pity that he despised. What she said next felt like a punch to the gut from the hulk, by twenty times worse.

"If the shot didn't kill her, the fall sure did."

* * *

He was in the back of the car, sobbing into Steve's shoulder. He didn't remember how he got into that position, and he didn't really care. Tony and Cluster were talking on the front porch.

Steve ran a large hand up and down his back, rocking him back and forth and muttering intelligible words of comfort that fell on deaf ears. Peter clutched the soldiers shirt desperately, trying to wake up, because this was so obviously a nightmare- _it had to be a nightmare_ , and he was going to wake up in his bed, Aunt May's going to be cooking in the kitchen, and all of this- the Avengers, Deadpool, his dad- is all just a _goddamn nightmare_.

But it wasn't.

 _It wasn't._

He sobbed harder, burying his face into Steve's neck, not caring that he was embarrassing himself, not caring that he was bawling like a baby on his idol's shoulder. Because at that moment, he wasn't Spiderman. He wasn't Web-Head, he wasn't a vigilante, he wasn't that Spider-Menace that J. Jonah Jameson curses every chance he gets.

At that moment, he was a teenager with a grirfriend, a teenager who goes to school and gets bullied and is a big nerd, a teenager who lost his parents as a kid and has now lost both his aunt and uncle in the space of a year.

At that moment, he was Peter.

His sobs soon die down to sniffles and quiet whimpers, but he doesn't pull away from the soldier. Steve pulls him into his lap, hugging him tightly and places a kiss in his hair.

"It's okay." he muttered into his ear, and Peter closed his eyes, sniffling as he buried his face deeper into Steve's neck. "It's okay."

"We're going to take care of you." he said. "I promise."

 _That's what Uncle Ben said_.

And he never broke that promise, did he? He did take care of him, same as Aunt May, up until their dying breathes. It wasn't like they could stop death. It wasn't their fault they'd left him. That's what he'd thought about his parents. Not so much anymore, though.

"I promise."

* * *

Tony came back to the car; climbed into the drivers seat. Steve sat Peter down in one of the backseats, buckled him in, and did the same to himself. No one spoke as they drove away, back to Avengers Tower.

Peter couldn't believe he'd thought the note was unimportant. _Of course it was important!_ What was going to happen to him now? Was he going to a foster home? How was he going to be Spiderman if he was hold up in a foster home?

 _She was dead._

What if he'd never gone out that night? What if he never became Spiderman?

 _They were all dead._

What if he'd never found his dads stupid case in the first place? What if he never got his powers?

 _Everyone else is going to follow._

What if they never had that flood? What if his dad never experimented on him?

 _It's all your fault. You're no hero._

What if he was just never born?

 _You're a monster._

"Peter."

Peter was jolted out of his dark thoughts, turning his head to look up at Steve. The soldier gave him a small, sad smile. "We're here."

He was led out of the garage and into the elevator, the two Avengers glued to his hips. Tony let out a small sigh when the doors closed and they began going upwards, putting an arm around Peter's shoulders and pulling him to his side in a one armed hug. He felt Steve grab his hand and squeeze.

"Everything's going to be okay, alright, Pete?" Tony said in a near whisper. "Steve, Bruce, Thor, Clint, Natasha and I are gonna keep you safe. We'll take care of you."

 _And you'll kill them in return._

Peter bit his lip, trying to stifle a sob, hiding his face in Tony's shoulder.

 _You get everyone that's close to you killed._

The elevator dinged, and Tony pulled back, giving Peter's hair a ruffle. Steve, still holding the vigilantes hand, leads him towards the couch. He heard Clint asking what happened, and Tony began whispering to them, but Peter didn't care. Because she was dead.

 _It's all your fault._

Steve laid him down and tucked him in, running a hand through Peter's hair and rubbing his forehead with his thumb. "Everything's gonna be okay."

 _He's lying._

 _You'll be fine, Peter. That parts true._

Peter's eyes slid shut, exhaustion taking hold. Steve continued running his hand through his hair, as Tony herded the others into the kitchen to explain what happened.

 _But they're not._

 _Whoever you befriend- whoever you love- they'll always end up dead._

Steve placed a kiss on his forehead and stood, turning towards the kitchen to join his friends. Peter's eyes slid shut.

 _You're a monster._

 _And you damn well know it._

* * *

 **Okay, yeah, Aunt May's dead. When someone said that in the comments, I was like _Dammit, I wanted to shock them!_ But you didn't see the star-tattoo guy coming! You _can't_ say you saw that coming!**

 **Right, Fury's coming next chapter! And sorry for such a late update.**


	10. Chapter 10

He awoke to shouting.

Peter blinked open his eyes sleepily, annoyed to have been awoken from his slumber. He was tired, his head hurt, and he just wanted to _sleep_. He buried his head into the couch, wrapping an arm over his exposed ear, trying to drown out the shouting. Why were they being so loud?

When the shouting only got closer, Peter scowled and sat up reluctantly, taking in the empty living room. He blinked, and climbed off the couch, the blanket falling on the floor. Why was he at Avengers Tower? Hadn't he been sent home and fallen asleep in bed? And Aunt May had come home early...

... Aunt May...

Oh.

He'd been dreaming.

Peter's heart barely had enough time to plummet to his stomach and crack in two before the door leading to the stairs was flung open. The Avengers, all looking rather pissed, followed a... pirate(?) into the living room. The pirate looked rather annoyed as well, and they were all shouting.

When their eyes met his, they all froze mid-argument. Peter blinked, surprised, his grief momentarily forgotten. Natasha and Clint looked torn between agreeing with the pirate and their teammates, Thor just looked like he wanted to punch something, Bruce's skin was tinted green and his mouth twisted downwards, Tony looked downright pissed off and Steve's jaw was clenched, his hands balled into fists and eyes glaring at the pirate.

This only lasted for a few seconds, however, as as soon as they realized he was awake, Steve gave him a small smile and Tony seemed a little less pissed, although he gave the pirate (seriously, why is there a pirate here?) a rather deadly glare.

"Hey, Pete. Are you feeling alright?" Tony asked. Peter nodded slowly.

The pirates one eye was looking him up and down, face a hard mask. "This is Spiderman?"

Peter tensed, eyes widening in betrayal. They'd told him? They gave him away even though they promised they wouldn't? "Y-You told him?"

"No!" Steve denied immediately, raising his hands and shaking his head. "Nonononono! We never- we haven't told him anything! He caught wind of the Avengers being seen with a kid in Queens and just barged in to investigate!"

"Then how do you know I'm Spiderman?" Peter asked, looking at the pirate suspiciously.

"It was a guess." The pirate said coldly. "You have the same frame and height. We compared your image with one we have of you in costume."

"Oh... so why are you here?"

"I was just asking the same thing." Tony snarled, glaring at the pirate. "Why _are_ you here, Fury? If you're here to take Spidey, you can for-"

"I have no interest in taking Spiderman." the pirate, Fury, cut him off. "I'm here to discus what you six are planning on doing with him, seeing as how he's guardianless and underage and a _vigilante_."

The Avengers looked at each other, then back at Fury, faces becoming strangely blank. Fury blinked at them, his eyebrows shooting up, slowly shaking his head as realization dawned. Peter frowned. Realizing what?

Fury groaned, bringing his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "You're kidding me. You have got to be _fucking_ kidding me."

"Huh?" Peter said, feeling rather dumb.

Fury looked at him, then back to the steel-faced Avengers. He sighed. " _Two_ of you. No more."

Then, jacket billowing behind him like a cloak, Fury stalked into the elevator and gave them one last glare before the doors concealed him from view.

The Avengers faces melted into looks of relief, Natasha and Clint looking at each other with a glint in their eyes, Tony's mouth curling into a satisfied smirk.

Peter blinked at them slowly.

"What the hell was that about?"

Instead of getting an answer, Steve stalked forward and shoved him lightly in the chest, causing the boy to stumble and fall back into a chair. Ah. The wheelchair. Of course.

An amused smile curling at Steve's lips as Peter gave him a death glare, the Super Soldier sat down on the couch, picking up the fallen blanket and draping it over the back of the couch. Tony sat on the couch's armrest, while the others piled around.

"Peter," Steve said softly, looking completely serious. "Do you remember what happened yesterday?"

Peter's heart plummeted to his stomach like a boulder, his blood running cold and mouth going dry. He nodded, his voice a strangled whisper. "Yes."

Steve gave him a small, sad smile and reached over, taking the teens hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. Peter looked at his lap, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

He really was a monster.

"Do you know why Fury was here?" asked Natasha, voice surprisingly soft.

"Something to do with Spiderman?"

"Yes and no." Tony said. At Peter's confused frown, he continued. "He was getting involved because you were Spiderman, that's the yes, but he wasn't here to discus anything about you being a vigilante."

"So... he came _because_ I'm Spiderman, but for something other then Spiderman?"

"Great," Clint groaned, leaning his head back in exasperation. "Now I'm confused."

"Just tell him already." Bruce said.

"Okay, okay, I just wanna be sure of something first." said Steve, taking a deep breath before turning back to the confused vigilante. "Spidey, now that your aunt's... gone, is there anyone else who can take care of you?"

Richards face flashed in his minds eye, but Peter immediately willed it away. No. He wasn't going to think about him. Not now, and hopefully not ever (he knew that was a lie). He slowly shook his head.

"No. I'm probably going into foster home."

The Avengers shared looks. Natasha rose her eyebrows.

"Spidey," Steve took another breath. "What do you say to us adopting you?"

Peter blinked.

He blinked again.

He opened his mouth.

Closed it.

Blinked.

"W-What?"

"Two of us- that's what Fury meant, by the way- want to take you into our custody." Steve said, with a bit more confidence this time. "What do you say?"

"I-I... you're serious? This isn't some sort of sick joke?"

"Come on, even Loki's not that cruel." Tony said, rolling his eyes, but his expression was soft. "We're serious about this, Pete."

"I... I'll have to think about it." Peter muttered, still unsure if whether this was a joke or not. Why would the _Avengers_ want to adopt a teenage vigilante that got everyone he loved killed?

They nodded, giving him small smiles. Then Natasha grew a wicked grin.

"Alright, everyone. Who's ready for some training?"

Tony and Clint groaned, causing Steve to roll his eyes at them and give Peter an exasperated smile, who gave him a weak grin in return.

Peter grabbed his backpack, before he was wheeled into the elevator and pushed up against the wall by the bench again, but this time by himself, as Natasha dragged Bruce off to lift weights.

He unzipped his bag and took out his laptop, the screen lighting up as he opened it. He was planning on going on YouTube or something, but then he froze, mouse hovering over the Chrome icon.

The USB.

Panic gripping his chest and making it hard to breathe, Peter looked up to where Steve was teaching Tony to fight without his armor. "Tony?" he called, thankfully keeping the panic out his voice.

Tony looked up, just as Steve lightly (not hard enough to bruise, anyway) punched him in the stomach, making him start and lose his balance.

Scowling at Steve's sheepish face, Tony returned his gaze to Peter, eyes softening. "Yeah, Pete?"

"Know those clothes I stole from Oscorp?" Peter asked. Tony and Steve frowned at him, sharing a confused look.

"Yeah, what about them?" asked Tony. Peter's shoulders slumped in relief.

"I, er, um, I feel a bit guilty for stealing them." he lied. "Did you throw them out, or can I return them?"

Natasha raised an eyebrow at him. "Return them how?"

Peter shrugged. "Sneak in and leave them on a desk or something? I could go in as Peter Parker and no one would be the wiser."

"They saw you with your mask off." Clint pointed out.

"Then, uh... one of you can do it?"

Natasha raised a single, perfect eyebrow at him, and then nodded, returning back to her weight lifting. Bruce's shirt was beginning to soak with sweat.

"I've still got them." Tony said, climbing to his feet. "They're in your room. Do you want to go get them now? You look kind of bored over there."

Peter immediately nodded, giving the mechanic a grateful smile. "Yeah, I'll go put them in my bag. I'll be right back."

"Do you want one of us to go with you?" Steve asked. Peter shook his head.

"No, I'll be fine. Besides, JARVIS will call if anything happens, won't he?"

 _"Of course I will."_ promised JARVIS.

"See? It'll only take five minutes." Peter wheeled himself into the elevator and pressed the button to the Avengers floors, the metal doors closing in front of him. Peter finally allowed himself to sigh in relief, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. They didn't throw it out. The USB was still there and wouldn't end up in the hands of a garbage man who will then become a super villain and swear to kill Spiderman.

Seriously, where do those guys keep coming from? He was really getting annoyed with scientists who think they're gods.

The elevator _dinged_ as it reached the main living floors, where most of the Avengers slept instead of their own floors, and Peter wheeled himself out of the elevator, slinging the backpack over the handles of the wheelchair (he didn't want to risk getting up and reopening his wounds, even though he really wanted to. Bruce would kill him).

Wheeling himself down the hall, Peter looked at the doors. The guest room he was staying in was right across from Tony's room, which had an Arc Reactor on it, and a few doors down from Steve's, which, as he'd said Peter's first night here, had a shield on it. Steve's was next doors to Thor's (which had his hammer (what was it called? Mjolnir? on it), and next to the bathroom was Bruce's room, which had a giant green fist on it, Clint's was across from Bruce's, with an arrow claiming it's door, and Natasha's was right next to Clint's, with a black widow spider on it.

The guest room he was staying in had a bare door, just like all the other guest rooms. The only doors that had a symbol on it were the Avengers bedrooms. So that's why Peter's eyebrows rose to his hairline when he came to the guest room's door, which now had a red and blue spidery on it. When did they do _that_? Just now? While he was unconscious? How long have they been planning on giving him his own _bedroom_?

Deciding to ignore it for now, Peter opened the door and wheeled himself in, not bothering to shut it behind him. On the desk, folded neatly and with a few dark brown stains that must be his own dried blood, which, from the looks of it, had been scrubbed out the best it could, were the brown slacks that he'd taken from Oscorp. The extension cord he'd used as a belt was missing. He assumed Tony had either thrown that out or kept it as a spare. Maybe he gave it to a passing employee as a 'good job' gift.

Wheeling over to the desk and holding his breath (what if it wasn't there anymore? What if it fell out?), Peter grabbed the slacks and stuffed his hand into one of the pockets, heart jumping when it came up empty. Pulling his hand out and immediately stuffing it into the other pocket, Peter let go of his breath when his fingers closed around the slick form of the stolen USB.

He pulled it out, holding it in his hand as if afraid he'd lose it if he let go, Peter refolded the pants and stuffed them in his backpack, before he wheeled himself out of the room again.

 _"Spiderman?"_ JARVIS spoke up, as the elevator opened again.

"Yeah, Jay?" said Peter absentmindedly, wheeling himself into the elevator, USB still clutched in his hand.

 _"May I ask what the USB drive contains?"_

Peter froze, blinking slowly. He swallowed, before looking up at the ceiling, as if to look at JARVIS's imaginary face. "It's, er, it's complicated. I'll tell the Avengers soon, though. I just got to check something first. Is that okay?"

 _"So far, yes. But if it becomes a serious matter, I will have no choice but to inform Sir."_

"Yeah, okay. Thanks, JARVIS." Peter sighed, placing the USB between his legs so he could steer the stupid wheelchair better.

The elevator opened and he reentered the gym. Steve, who had an annoyed looking Tony in a headlock, gave him a smile in acknowledgement before returning to laughing as his friend struggled to take him on without the suit.

Peter rolled himself back over to his spot by the bench, where his laptop still sat. He picked it up, pulling the USB out and plugged it in. A document opened, containing a single folder labeled _Superheroes, Villains and Anti-Heroes/Villains._ Licking his lips, Peter opened the folder.

It was arranged alphabetically. The first one on the list was something called Abomination. Peter clicked on it, making a disgusted face when a picture showed up. It looked a bit like the Hulk, but... more disgusting. Apparently it was one of the Hulk's main enemies. Huh.

In the B's, there was a blue mutant known as the Beast, as well as Black Widow, though Peter didn't click on that one. He wasn't going to snoop around Natasha's life, or any of the Avengers for that matter. He'll only do it if he has to.

There was also Black Cat, Black Panther, Boom Boom (What kind of name was that?), Bloodscream, Bloodstorm, Bloodstrike, etc., etc. In the C's there was, of course, Captain America, but he didn't click on that one. There was also Cable, Cyclopes (he's pretty sure that's an X-Men), Colossus, so on. Peter skipped to the I's, passing over Iceman and Iron Man, briefly looking at Invisible Women before realizing she was the one from the Fantastic Four. Then there was Jaggernaut, Loki, M.O.D.O.K., Magneto, Molecule Man, Mr. Fantastic, Mysterio, Nightcrawler, Nicolas Fury (the pirate guy, he remembers), Pyro, Quicksilver, Rocket Raccoon (who, as it turns out, is _actually_ a raccoon), Ronan (which had a huge **DECEASED** label on the name), Sabretooth, Scarlet Witch, Spiderman, Silver Surfer, Thanos, Toad, The Thing, Whiplash, War Machine, Wolverine, Winter Soldier, Xavier, and many, _many_ more.

Of course, he didn't look at _all_ of them, like Thanos, Xavier, Winter Soldier, etc. More like skimmed through the names and committed the interesting ones to memory. Like Mystique.

He began trying to find a certain name, one that would tell him who _wrote_ these documents, like an authors name on a books cover. But he couldn't find one, not even some strange symbol. What if there were other files like these on other computers and not only the one at Oscorp? Is it because of these files that his Aunt May was dead? But Richard had thought that it was the serum that had given Peter his powers, even though the Spiderman file told the true story, down to the exact details. It even told of him breaking his promise to Officer Stacy.

So either Richard knew nothing of the files, hadn't read them yet, didn't believe them or they had just arrived. Peter really hopped it was the latter; if they had just arrived, then no one could have read too much of it.

He should tell the Avengers.

He doesn't.

Peter had just finished copying the files onto his laptop when Clint walked up to him. "Come on, Web-Head. Training's over." Hr closed his computer and put it and the USB into his backpack, while Clint took the wheelchairs handles and began walking towards the elevator.

"What was on the 'SB?" he asked, as the other Avengers began to file in.

Peter shrugged. "Just a book I got online."

"What's is about?"

"Oh, er, it's the book-version of _Star Wars_."

Clint nodded. "Oh, yeah, that's a brilliant series."

"What's _Star Wars_?" Steve asked, as the elevator began to go up. Everyone froze, looking at him with wide eyes. Steve frowned. "What?"

"You don't know what _Star Wars_ is?" Tony asked. Then, he broke into a wide grin. "You've got to be the last unspoiled American adult on the planet! We gotta watch the series tonight!"

"Should we start from episode four or one?" asked Bruce, as the elevator opened and they exited into the living room. Steve gave him a weird look.

"Er, one?"

Tony shook his head. "No, see, the _originals_ were made first, but they're episodes four, five and six. The prequels were then made, but if we watch them first he won't get to be shocked when they find out who Luke's dad is."

"We should watch the originals first." Peter said, grinning at the idea of a Star Wars Marathon. He couldn't wait to see Steve's reaction. Uncle Ben really enjoyed watching little Peter's reaction when he showed him it. "Hey, Tony, have you ever tried to build your own lightsaber?"

"Of course I have!" Tony exclaimed, looking offended at the very thought of him _not_ trying. "And I haven't given up yet!"

They go into the kitchen, Thor listening intently as Tony and Clint explained _Star Wars_ to him, while Steve just decides to ignore them for now and begins cooking dinner. Peter offers to help, but they immediately decline and he's forced to sit at the table (yet again), folding his arms and resting his chin on them.

He finally allowed himself to think.

Okay, so his Aunt's dead, his maniac dad's alive, the Avengers want to _adopt_ him, a bunch of Science-Doctors (as well as his dad) are out to get him, and he has a USB holding every single bit of information about every superhero and villain on and off the planet and, for some reason, he's not telling the Avengers this.

Maybe it's because of SHIELD.

Maybe not.

So let's focus on the adoption thing. His options are: Go to a foster home, which will make being Spiderman ten times harder (or maybe five times easier), run away and live on the streets for a year (thus making being Spiderman five hundred times harder) or stay and live with the Avengers, who know him as both Spiderman and Peter Parker. But _why_ would they want to adopt him? They could just foster him instead...

But what about Richard? (He refused to think of him as 'dad') Obviously, he knows he's Spiderman. What if he decides to reveal his identity to the public? Aunt May may be dead, but there was still Gwen and her family. What if... what if Richard was involved with his Aunt's murder? What if he purposefully killed off his last known relative so he could get custody of him? The thought sent shivers wracking his spine.

Dinner finished cooking and a plate of baked potatoes, a small pile of broccoli and a slab of chicken was placed in front of him. The Avengers sat down in their own chairs, Clint visibly sitting as far away from Thor as possible.

"Eat as much as you can." Steve said. handing him a knife and fork. "It's okay if you can't finish it; don't let yourself throw up this time, alright?"

Peter nodded with a somewhat-sheepish smile, and began to eat slowly. His stomach felt as if it were in knots, and he couldn't bring himself to eat almost anything. He was able to get some potatoes, a couple bit of broccoli, a corner of chicken and a sip of his juice down before he was leaning away from the table, bile rising in the back of his throat.

None of the others commented, Steve wrapping up the leftovers probably by habit, before they were all piling into the living room, Tony quickly claiming the comfiest spot on the couch. Peter was sat in one of the corners, a blanket draped around his shoulders, and Natasha put on _Star Wars: A New Hope._ Peter sat back, allowing himself to get comfortable and willing his troubled thoughts away, as the music began to play and Tony read out the credits in a deep, dramatic voice.

* * *

 **YES! I promised myself I'd update on Friday, and even thought it's twenty past nine and pretty much Saturday, this chapters completed! Hopefully, the next one will be a lot sooner, I'll try my best to update next weekend at the latest. Also, WHY IS NO ONE ELSE UPDATING?! I MEAN, HONESTLY, I'M CHECKING MY FAVORITES HOURLY AND NO ONE'S UPDATED SINCE THE 14TH! WHAT THE HELL?! DO NOT SINK TO MY LEVEL, PEOPLE!**

 **Okay, so please comment, like and enjoy!**


	11. Chapter 11

When the movie finished, Steve was starring at the screen with wide eyes and a slacked jaw. The others turned to look at him, grinning at his reaction.

"So," Tony said, his grin impossibly wide. "What ya think?"

Steve blinked, slowly turning his gaze away from the screen to look at Tony. "When will those lightsabers be ready?"

"He loves it!" shouted Clint, throwing his hands up into the air and spraying popcorn seeds all over the floor. Tony, Peter, Thor and Clint all cheered, Steve himself breaking into a wide smile.

"When are we gonna watch the next one?" Tony asked.

"Tomorrow." Steve said firmly, looking at his watch. "It's almost one in the morning."

Clint groaned, muttering about stupid bedtimes, though Peter was pretty sure that he didn't have to go to bed if he didn't want to.

The Avengers stood up, Peter wiggling himself off the couch and into the wheelchair, draping the blanket over the couch's armrest. Natasha was the one to take the handles this time, and they began to head towards their bedrooms, muttering good nights as, one by one, they vanished behind closed doors.

Natasha closed the door over with a nudge of her hips, wheeling Peter towards the double bed, where he'd first woken up after the attack what seemed a life time ago. She placed his backpack against the bedside table and put the wheelchair as close as possible, in case he needed to get up to use the bathroom or something.

Peter, glad that he didn't have to change into pajamas since he was already wearing some, crawled under the covers and practically collapsed against the ridiculously soft pillow. Natasha pulled the covers over his shoulders, ran a hand through his hair, muttered something in Russian that might have been a good night, before walking out the room and closing the door behind her.

He wanted to sleep.

But he couldn't.

Sighing in frustration after an hour of tossing and turning, willing sleep to take him, Peter finally let his curiosity win over his want for sleep and sat up, slowly as to not rip his stitches (he was actually planning on _healing_ , after all). He leaned over the side of the bed and grabbed his backpack's shoulder strap, pulling it towards him and into his lap. He unzipped it and took out his laptop, allowing his bag to land on the floor with a soft _thump._

Peter opened the computer and switched it on, waiting a moment for it to switch on properly. He quickly typed in his password and opened the folder he'd copied the files to, which he''d called _Science Project_. Just in case.

He scrolled to the very bottom of the list, wanting to see if there was some sort of pattern or a secret code from the way the files were arranged. The first file was, as he'd said before, Abomination. The _last_ file was 081459. Peter thought it might be an escaped experiment, like the raccoon. But it didn't have anything like _Kid From Brooklyn,_ or _A Fate Worse Then Death_ or _Forgotten Past_. Just a bunch of numbers.

So, of course, he clicked on it.

To Peter's surprise, a video popped up. It loaded for a minute or two, before it began playing.

It showed a man with incredible bulk, you could tell even though it only showed his head and shoulders. He was wearing a strange helmet and had purple skin and a square jaw covered in weird lines. His eyes were dark. He looked like something you'd see out of a spacey sci-fi movie.

Peter had the feeling he wasn't exactly human.

The alien- that was his guess, anyway, seeing as apparently Rocket Raccoon was apart of the 'Guardians of the Galaxy,' which is made up of aliens and a half-alien, half-human that calls himself Star Lord (that's a pretty cool name, he must admit)- opened his mouth and began speaking in a language he didn't recognize. The video lasted only a minute, and it was only of the alien talking. The only words Peter was able to make out were _S_ _meg_ , _Nebula_ and _N_ _oitamrofin_.

That's when the door opened.

Peter's heart leaped in shock, his head snapping up. Steve stood in the doorway, wearing a pair of joggy bottoms and a t-shirt. He looked from the computer to Peter, raising his eyebrows. Peter felt like a child caught out of bed.

"Er... hey." he said awkwardly. "What are you doing up?"

"Just went to the bathroom." Steve said, stepping in and closing the door over. "What are _you_ doing up?"

Peter shrugged, closing his laptop so Steve couldn't see what he was looking at. "Couldn't sleep."

"Nightmares?"

"No. Just... thoughts."

Steve gave him an understanding smile, sitting on the edge of the bed and taking his laptop, setting it on the bedside table. "You know," he began. "I was only seventeen when my mother died. My father died from mustard gas poisoning when I was four. The only reason they didn't send me to an orphanage for a year was because my best friend, Bucky, was eighteen and already had a place of his own. Since I was old enough to take care of myself, they let me live with him."

"It's my aunt that's died, not my mother." Peter pointed out halfheartedly.

"Yes, but she raised you, right?" at Peter's nod, he continued. "How old were you when your mother died?"

"I'm not sure she'd dead." Peter admitted. "But I also don't think she's coming back, so she might as well be. I was six. It was only a couple hours after they experimented on me."

Steve rose his eyebrows. "I thought it almost killed you. Didn't they take you to the hospital or something?"

Peter shook his head. "No, some of the other Science-Doctors decided to try and save me and succeeded. I got really sick the next morning though and didn't get better for three months."

"Your Aunt and Uncle got you a doctor, right?"

"Yeah, of course. He gave me some medicine and hooked me up to a few machines. I ended up going to the hospital for a week."

Steve sighed. "Well, at least a doctor was eventually involved. When I was a kid, I was constantly sick. I had asthma, scarlet fever, you name it. Doctors said I wouldn't live past my teens. Ma never believed them. If she did, she never told me. Bucky was my only friend because of my body problems. He was about the only one that didn't treat me like glass." Steve looked at Peter, smiling at him sadly. His eyes were oddly shiny. "I still don't understand why he stuck around. All the other kids always wanted to play baseball and other sports with him but, instead, he stayed inside with me."

"He sounds like a great friend." Peter whispered. Steve wasn't looking at him anymore, instead starring at the ground. Peter had the sense that he was crying and didn't want him to see.

He got up on his knees so he could reach around the soldier better, hugging him. Steve twisted around so they were facing each other and buried his face into Peter's shoulder, returning the hug gently.

"It never stops hurting." Steve gasped out a moment later, into his shoulder. "You never stop missing them. But it's okay. There are still people who care about you, like me and the rest of the Avengers and that girl that screamed at you on the phone."

Peter chuckled. "Yeah, that was- that was Gwen. My girlfriend."

Steve chuckled as well. "She's lucky to have you." They sat in silence for a moment, before Steve began talking again.

"What I'm trying to say is that your Aunt would want you to be happy. So would your Uncle. You're allowed to miss them, of course you are, and it's _supposed_ to hurt. I don't want to meet the man who doesn't. But they'd want you to go on with your life. They'd want you to enjoy it while it lasts."

"I miss them." Peter muttered, voice cracking. He suddenly realized he was crying, but he didn't move to wipe them away.

"Yeah, I miss my family too." Steve said. He pulled back, eyes red, and cupped Peter's face in his hands, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. "But I have a new family now."

"The Avengers?"

Steve nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah. Tony, Clint, Bruce, Natasha, Thor, and even some non-Avengers. Jane, Darcy, Pepper, you and JARVIS. Although I'm not sure if JARVIS counts as an Avenger or not."

 _"Thank you, Captain Rogers_."

"No problem, Jar." Steve muttered, eyes trained on Peter, who was no longer looking at him. "Even if you choose not to come into our custody," he said quietly. "You're still always welcome here. And apart of the family."

Peter looked up at him, giving him a grateful smile. He hugged him again, burying his face into the crook of Steve's neck.

"I'd like that." he whispered.

He really would.

* * *

"Alright." Bruce said, clapping his hands together. "Your abdomen's healing nicely. The stitches should be coming out in about a week and you can walk without the wheelchair a little bit, but not for too long and absolutely _no_ sprinting, jogging or web-slinging. Got it?"

Peter nodded. Anything to get rid of that blasted wheelchair.

"Great. And if you start to get tired, _sit down_ or at _least_ use the crutches."

"Okay."

"Promise?"

"Yup."

"Peter, uncross your fingers."

Peter groaned. " _Fine_. I promise."

Bruce clapped him on the shoulder. "Good. Now let's get you to the living room."

Peter slid off the table, holding onto it as he swayed for a moment, before following Bruce out of the lab and up the stairs, into the living room. Steve, Clint and Natasha were playing Mario Kart, Clint shouting something about 'stupid super soldiers who keep throwing blue shells.'

"-I mean, _come on!_ Video games weren't even _invented_ when you were a kid and here you are- No- Nononono- Steve, don't do it- GOD DAMMIT!"

Clint threw his hands up in the air as he was put in last place, Steve zooming past him with a wide grin on his face. He seemed to be enjoying himself.

"Where's Tony and Thor?" Bruce asked, as he and Peter took seats on the couch.

"They're taking Pepper and Jane out for lunch on a double date." Natasha answered, not looking away from the screen. "We're only to interrupt if there's a call to Assemble."

"Right, got it." said Bruce, before picking up a book, putting on his glasses and slipping into a world of his own.

"You wanna play, Spidey?" Steve asked, as he bashed one of the other racers out of the way and came in first place. "We've got four controllers."

Peter shrugged. "Sure."

After spectacularly getting his butt kicked by both Steve and Natasha, ending with Clint curling into a ball with his head between his legs and whining like a kicked puppy, Steve went into the kitchen to start preparing lunch. Peter pulled out his phone and began texting Gwen, but didn't tell her anything about Aunt May, the CPA or the Avengers wanting to adopt him. He'll tell her in person. She cared about Aunt May just as much as he does. Did.

"Who wants grilled cheese?" Steve called from the kitchen.

"What are we, ten?" Clint asked, but he clambered to his feet anyway and made his way eagerly towards the kitchen.

They sat down at the kitchen table with plates of grilled cheese and a side of potato chips, along with a drink. Peter was able to keep down the entire sandwich and a portion of the chips, which Clint ate anyway, then they were thanking Steve for the lunch and the others trickled back into the living room. Steve began doing the dishes, and Peter stood up from the table and began to help.

"Oh, no, Peter, you don't have to." said Steve, as he began to dry the dishes and put them away. Peter shrugged.

"I know."

Steve blinked at him, then gave him a smile and a thank you. Peter put the last two glasses in the cabinet and leaned back against the counter, watching Steve drain the sink and dry his hands with a dish towel.

Living here wouldn't be so bad. Hell, he's pretty much living here already. So what was stopping him from saying yes?

He knew the answer to that question.

But this was the _Avengers_. No one was just going to waltz in and shoot them. But they were also on dangerous missions a lot. They could easily be killed during one of those. And what if that mission involved protecting Peter?

Then he'll leave. Simple as that.

If, for some reason, he becomes a danger to them or someone like Doctor Doom or Loki began targeting him and he was locked up in Avengers Tower for 'his own safety,' he'll just leave. He would _not_ let these people die because of him. Not like Aunt May or George Stacy or Uncle Ben.

The same goes with Gwen.

"Steve?" he said, voice sounding rather quiet.

"Yeah, bud?" Steve asked, looking up from where he'd been drying the counter top, which he'd gotten wet while washing the dishes. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah, everything's fine... it's just... about you guys wanting to, er..."

Steve straightened, looking at him curiously. "Adopt you?"

Peter licked his lips, mouth suddenly going dry. He nodded.

"Have you... decided?" the soldier asked, actually looking _nervous_. Dammit, that was not helping.

"Er, yeah..." he shouldn't do this. He couldn't do this. Was he seriously going to do this?

Steve stepped forward, looking at him expectantly. When Peter didn't say anything, he reached forward and nudged the vigilante's chin, not forcing him to look at him but simply suggesting it. Swallowing, Peter did so, taking in a shaky breath,

"I guess... if you want to, that is... you could."

There. He'd done it.

 _Why would he do that?!_

But Steve had broken into a large grin, pulling him forward in a one armed hug. "We'd be more then happy to, Pete. Wanna go tell the others?"

Peter shrugged, suddenly feeling shy. Steve was still smiling, an understanding look in his eyes.

"Alright. I'll tell them, then."

Peter couldn't help a small breath of relief, and he gave the super soldier a weak grin as he began to lead him towards the living room.

* * *

"We really don't have to do this." said Peter.

"Of course we have to do this!" Tony exclaimed from the drivers seat. "We've just got a new member to the family! I mean, we went bowling when Jane and Darcy joined."

"We _tried_ to go bowling." Bruce corrected. "But then Thor decided to use his hammer as a ball and demolished half the bowling area. And Clint broke several arcade games."

"That was _not_ my fault!" exclaimed Clint from the seat behind Peter. "I _so_ got that stuffed dinosaur, but then the claw purposefully dropped it _inches_ away from the hole."

"So he smashed the glass and stole the dinosaur." said Natasha. "And now he cuddles it in bed."

Peter snorted, while Clint glared at her.

"Don't judge me, okay! Dino Danny happens to be very cuddly."

Steve, who was in the front passenger seat, covered his mouth with his hand, shoulders shaking from suppressed laughter. Tony didn't even bother, bursting out in a fit of laughter, along with Thor, who's booming laugh left a snickering Peter covering his ears.

" _D-Dino Danny_?!" Tony gasped, hitting the dashboard with his fist.

"Tony!" Steve shouted, as a car nearly crashed into them. Tony yelped, quickly turning the steering wheel and moving the car out of danger.

They were in one of Tony's bigger cars, a black SUV, with three rows of seats. Tony and Steve sat up front, Peter behind Steve, Bruce between Peter and Natasha, Clint behind Peter and Thor behind Natasha. Apparently, Pepper, Jane and Darcy, all of who Peter were yet to meet, were dealing with some SI business. Jane and Darcy may not be employee's, but Bruce had told him that Jane thought she might be able to help with whatever problem they were having so that Tony could go out for dinner. Darcy had stayed behind because she was Jane's assistant or something.

They pulled into the parking lot of a western restaurant called _Harry Howlers,_ and they all climbed out.

"You sure you don't want your wheelchair, Peter?" asked Steve. Peter rolled his eyes.

"Yes, I'm sure I don't want my wheelchair. Besides, I'm going to be sitting down, aren't I?"

"Kiddo's got a point." Tony said, ruffling Peter's hair, who scowled at him. They made their way into the restaurant, Tony talking to the women at the desk. She immediately nodded upon realizing who he was and ushered them to a booth near the back. They were all in civilian clothes, even Thor, who'd tied his hair back into a pony tail.

"- okay, so this guy, can't be bothered to remember what his name was, began droning on and on and _on_ about this and that." Tony was saying, an hour later as they ate their food. "And he was just so _boring_. I mean, one of the guys even _fell asleep_ and he just kept going, didn't even seem to realize that no one was even paying attention anymore."

"Well, this one time, during a mission," said Clint, swallowing down his fried chicken. "I had to pretend to be a businessman. And I had to sit through half a board meeting and, just... it was _awful_. This really old guy, Harrison or something, was going on about... _something_. I had to pretend I knew what was going on from the very beginning, but the thing was, _no one else_ seemed to have _any_ idea what he was talking about. At one point, he took off his shirt, jacket and tie and showed us this smiley cartoon flower tattooed onto his stomach."

Bruce chocked on his drink as they dissolved into fits of laughter.

"I think-" gasped Clint. "I think he was _high_ or something. He certainly wasn't drunk, I would have known immediately... but _wow_ , that had been a strange hour. Also one I'll never get back."

When they'd all calmed down, Peter took his napkin off his lap and sat it on the table. "I have go to the bathroom. Could you let me out?"

"Oh, sure." said Natasha, sliding out from the booth so he could get out. He muttered a quick thank you and made a bee line for the men's room, pushing the door open and allowing it to swing shut behind him.

After flushing the toilet, Peter exited the cubical and began washing his hands, humming absentmindedly under his breath. As much as he wasn't sure about this whole adoption thing, he couldn't really bring himself to regret it. Not yet, at least. Besides, it's not like it's official. There was still a lot of paperwork to be done, but with Tony's lawyers, it shouldn't take more then a week or two.

 _Spidey sense_.

Peter's head snapped up immediately, making eye contact with himself in the mirror for a split second before they went over his shoulder, to where a man with graying hair and a small stubble stood behind him. The man made eye contact with him in the mirror and smiled.

"Hey, Pete." greeted Richard, still smiling.

Heart dropping to his toes and blood running winter cold, Peter spun around and backed away hurriedly, stumbling over his own feet and slamming his back into the corner of the bathroom. Richard stepped forward, standing in front of him and blocking him. Peter knew he could take him out; knew he could get past him and be out that door within seconds, that he can be at the Avengers side in an instant, the people who promised to keep him safe, who wanted to _adopt_ him even though he's been nothing but trouble.

But he doesn't.

It's as if his minds gone numb; as if his bones have been frozen; as if he were paralyzed in terror.

Paralyzed, instead of the usual adrenaline.

"I'm so proud of you." Richard muttered, his eyes taking in every freckle on Peter's face, everything strand of hair, every crease on his clothes. His eyes were hungry, as if he were a greedy child looking at his most favorite snack. "All you've done... all the people you've saved..." Richard reached up, the tips of his fingers brushing against Peter's cheek. The vigilant was shaking.

"Everything you've done, asking for nothing in return..." Richard's hand drew away, instead stuffing into his jacket pocket and gripping something inside it. Was he about to pull out a gun? A knife? "... all because of the serum _I_ made..."

It was not a gun, nor a knife. Richard pulled out a long, empty syringe, it's sharp needle shinning menacingly. Even though it was empty, Peter flinched violently. He wanted to correct the man in front of him, tell him that it wasn't the serum that gave him his powers, but it was as if his throat had closed and he couldn't get a single word out.

Then Richard was gripping his elbow, his sleeves were up and the syringe was in his skin. A strangled gasp flew past Peter's lips, but there was nothing to inject him with. No, instead Richard pulled the needle up and the inside filled with Spiderman's crimson blood.

The needle was pulled out, capped and placed back into Richard's pocket. The man folded his arms in front of him, one hand in front of the other, looking at him curiously. He didn't say anything, just looked at the shivering Peter for a long moment.

"They're not gonna adopt you, you know." he finally said, looking at him with something that could only be pity in his eyes. When Peter said nothing, Richard continued. "Do you honestly believe that they were going to? That they cared? You're nothing, Pete. All you'll ever be is Patient 1. It's all you ever have been."

No. He was lying. He had to be. The Avengers said they were going to take care of him; said that he was family. But had he, Peter, ever really believed them? He was a monster, after all. He got Captain Stacy killed, he helped Dr. Conners become the Lizard even though he should have known there was a reason the formula had been hidden, heck, he broke a dead mans last request and dated his daughter, put her in _danger_ when he'd asked him not to.

He was a disgrace.

He was a monster.

He was a Patient.

He's known that all along, even if he didn't realize it. Richard was right. _He was right_.

The bathroom door opened.

"Hey, Petey, what the hell's taking so-" Clint froze, his hawk-sharp eyes taking in the scene before him. His face went oddly blank. "What are you doing with my nephew?"

Peter felt his shoulders slump in relief, before he tensed again, wondering what he was going to do. What must Clint think of him, the Amazing Spiderman, cowering in the corner of a bathroom with a seemingly harmless man blocking his path?

Richard glanced at Clint, not answering him, before raising his eyebrows at Peter with a knowing smirk. "I'll be on my way, then." he said, turning around and shouldering past Clint, who glared after him suspiciously. Richard rested his hand on the door, looking over his shoulder at the still shaking teenager. "It was nice seeing you again, Pete. I do hope we'll be doing so again."

And he was gone, the bathroom door swinging closed behind him. With Peter's blood in his pocket.

* * *

 **Hey, this chapters for the attack in Belgium, Brussels. Let's all give a moment of silence to the thirty-five that lost their lives in the airport and subways, the fifty-five that were injured, the ones that died from their injures and the families and friends in mourning.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Yeah, Gwen and Matt's in this chapter!**

* * *

Everything was strangely numb. There was a buzzing in his ears, muffling everything else around him. Distantly, he realized Clint was in front of him, asking him who that man was, if he was alright. Peter couldn't bring himself to answer, though. His mind had gone numb.

"Can we go home?" he whispered, voice cracking, trying to will back the wetness in his eyes. He couldn't cry, not now, not in front of an Avenger.

Clint was still asking questions, but, realizing he wasn't going to answer, took his hand, gave it a reassuring squeeze and led him out of the bathroom, the door swinging closed behind him. Out of the corner of his eye, Peter saw Clint signal the other Avengers. Steve gave the duo a confused and concerned frown, before nodding, standing up and saying something to the others.

Peter was led outside, Clint still not letting go of his hand, and to the car. The backdoor was opened and Peter sat down on the edge of the seat, feet dangling a few inches above the ground. Clint was still talking, and Peter forced himself to pay attention.

"-You look like you've seen a freakin' ghost, Spidey. Are you alright? What did that man do to you?"

"What man?"

The others had arrived, Bruce carrying a doggy bag. They were all giving Peter concerned looks and Steve, the one who had talked, turned to Clint for an explanation, since Peter didn't look like he was about to be giving one any time soon. "What happened?"

"I went to see what was taking him so long, as you know," began Clint, "Only to find Peter backed into a corner by this man, who was giving him this creepy grin. When he realized I was there, he left and Pete hasn't said a word since."

"Peter?" Steve said quietly, bending down so he was eye level with the teen. "Do you know who that man was?"

Peter couldn't bring himself to look at Steve, so he stared at his hands instead, willing himself to think of something that wouldn't make him seem like some sort of coward. But he only came up blank. He couldn't even bring himself to tell them the truth.

"Has he been drugged?" Tony asked.

Natasha stepped forward immediately, taking Steve's place and gently gripping Peter's chin, forcing him to look at her. She felt his pulse with her other hand, looked him right in the eye.

"He's in shock." she declared after a moment. "This man might have been one of the scientists at Oscorp. Or maybe some villain he's met before and thought was dead. But Peter won't be answering any questions soon; the best thing we can do is get him back to the Tower and into bed. He'll be better in the morning."

So they all pilled back into the car, Peter in the middle this time with Steve and Natasha on either side of him, Tony driving as Bruce checked Peter over from the front passenger seat.

"His wounds are fine." Bruce muttered, "He doesn't seem hurt at all. But I'm still going to run some scans on him tomorrow; just in case."

Peter couldn't bring himself to care that they were talking about him as if he wasn't even there. Couldn't bring himself to open his mouth and say something, whether it be to tell them that he'd taken his blood or that he was fine, he didn't know.

They pulled up into the garage and Peter was herded out of the car and into the elevator. Clint was giving the others a description on what the man had looked like, the others probably committing it to memory. But Peter had stopped listening a while ago.

When the elevator gave a cheerful little _ding!_ , Steve steered Peter towards the bedrooms, leaving the others to talk. He opened the door with the red and blue spider on it, closing it over with his foot and sat Peter on the bed, kneeling down in front of him.

"Can you get your pj's on yourself?" he asked quietly, as if afraid loud noises would set him off. Peter gave a small nod.

Steve smiled at him, ruffled his hair a bit, whispered a goodnight and that he and the others would be just down the hall if he needed anything, before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

Peter sat there for a moment, absentmindedly rubbing the elbow Richard had drawn blood from, his hands still shaking slightly. Have they been shaking this whole time? He wouldn't be surprised if they had been. Maybe he should just get those pj's on and go to bed...

Richard had his blood.

He had _his blood_.

His mutated, spider-enhanced _blood_.

Peter stood up, beginning to pace the length of the guest room- his room? Never mind, that wasn't important right now. What was he supposed to do? Tell the Avengers? But what if they decided he was too much trouble? What if they decided to pullback on the adoption?

He needed to speak to Gwen. In person. _Now_.

He needed to get out his costume.

* * *

The red and blue spandex hugging his body protected him from the chilly wind, his bio cables shooting from his wrists as he swung high above the city, cars honking beneath him and lights blocking out the stars.

Peter landed expertly on the fire escape outside Gwen's window, wrapping his knuckles against it smartly. Gwen, who was sitting on her bed on her computer, immediately looked up and, seeing her boyfriend, grinned and stood, opening the window and allowing him to climb in.

"Peter!" she breathed, pulling him into a hug. When she drew back, however, she slapped him.

"Ow!" Peter gasped, hand flying to his masked cheek. "What was that for?"

"For disappearing for nearly a month!" Gwen hissed, glaring at him. She grabbed his mask, ripping it off his face so she could look him in the eye. "What _happened?_ "

"My dads alive." blurted Peter.

Gwen looked taken aback, starring at him with wide eyes. "I... what?"

"My dads alive." Peter repeated, slower. "He's working at Oscorp and... Gwen, it's a _really_ long story... you see, right before he and mom left he was trying to recreate the serum they used on Captain America and, since they couldn't get any children to test it on, they used it on six year old me."

"They experimented on you?" Gwen exclaimed, rage flashing through her eyes. Peter nodded, wringing his gloved hands.

"After it... failed, they left, I'm still not sure why but I think it has something to do with the serum not working... maybe they made a deal with someone, I don't know. Anyway, now Richard, my dad, is back and he knows I'm Spiderman and he thinks that it's because of his serum that I have my powers and that it just took a couple years to show itself."

"But the actual origin of your powers is from a _different_ experiment Richard did." Gwen clarified. "Have you told him this?"

"I don't think he'd believe me." Peter admitted. "I found these... documents, in Oscorp. It has _every single_ origin story on _every single_ hero, villain and anti-hero slash villain. It shows their weaknesses, their strengths, _secret identities_..."

Gwen gasped. "It had you in it?"

"Yeah, but I deleted them all. But not before putting them all on a USB."

"You gave it to one of the Avengers, right?"

"Er... weeeeell..."

"Peter!"

"What did you want me to do?" Peter whispered harshly, indicating Gwen to be quiet unless one of her family members hear her. "Gwen, they would have given it to _S.H.I.E.L.D._! I met the Director and, trust me, these documents would _not_ be safe in his hands."

Gwen sighed, sitting down on the edge of her bed. "Then what are you going to do with them?"

"I don't know." admitted Peter, sitting next to her. "But what I'm currently most concerned about is how they _got it_. These documents date all the way back to World War II, and I haven't read all of them so there might even be some _before_ that."

They descended into silence, neither knowing what to say next.

"I heard about what happened to your aunt." said Gwen quietly, after moment. Peter closed his eyes. "On the news. Is it true?"

"Yeah," Peter whispered, voice cracking. "Yeah, it's true."

Gwen didn't say anything, instead pulling him close into a hug. Peter let out a shaky breath, allowing a few tears to fall. They sat there for a couple minutes, maybe even half an hour, before Peter pulled back, whipping away some stray tears.

"Richard got my blood." he said. "Earlier tonight. I got so scared, Gwen, I just... froze."

"And you need to get your blood back." it wasn't a question, but Peter nodded anyway. Gwen bit her lip, before standing and picking something up from her backpack and handing it to Peter, who took it. It was her ID pass for Oscorp.

"You're checking Oscorp, right? This should help you get in."

Peter smiled at her. He stood up, pulled her close, his lips meeting hers in a soft kiss. "Thank you, Gwen."

"It's no problem, Pete. Just try not to get yourself killed."

"I'll try."

"I'm holding you to that." Gwen's smile faltered slightly. "Seriously, Peter. Be safe."

Peter took her hand, gave it a light kiss. "I still have you to think of. I won't be going anywhere."

"Good. Oh, and you'll probably find your blood on floor eight, Lab 74. That's where most experimental liquids are kept. And you better text me tomorrow morning and tell me what happened, got it?"

"Yes, ma'am!" Peter said, giving a mock-salute.

Then, slipping the ID into one of the red and blue pockets around his waist where he usually kept his phone and spare web-shooters, Peter slipped the mask back on and hopped out the window, swinging away in the direction of Oscorp.

* * *

Matt ducked under a falling pillar, the heat of the fire making him sweat through his Daredevil costume. He followed the sound of screams and calls for help, toeing the ground to make sure the floor he was on was stable enough to hold his weight.

He entered a room were he could hear a women crying. "How many are in here?" he yelled, hopping someone was going to answer.

"F-Four!" a man coughed.

Alright, four people. He could work with that. Probably.

Matt ducked down, his fingers meeting the shaking body of a man. He was alive, but unconscious. He scooped the man up, holding him over one shoulder before stooping down again and picking up the crying women, throwing her over his other shoulder. The women clutched at the back of his costume, still half-sobbing and half-coughing. She must have some sort of fear of fire or is just really, really bad at life-threatening situations. Maybe both.

"Wait!" yelled another man, as Matt turned to leave. "Y-You can't just leave us here!"

"I'll come back for you!" said Matt over the sound of a nearby roof collapsing.

"There's not enough time!" the man argued, ignoring the coughing man's attempts at telling Matt to just go and get those two out while he can. "We'll die!"

"Not on my watch." came the voice of a young man, somewhere in the direction of a window.

"Who's that?" Matt asked, listening as another ceiling caved in. They were running out of time.

"What, don't recognize me from the red and blue spandex?"

"I'm blind."

"Oh. _Oh_. Daredevil, right?"

"Yeah." Matt thought for a moment. "Spiderman?"

"The one and only." said the young man. Wow, he sounded a lot younger then Matt had expected. He couldn't be any older then twenty.

"Get those other two. We need to get out of here before the whole building collapses." Matt instructed. The women was still sobbing into his back, but there was little he could do to reassure her.

"Alright, lets go." Spidey said, appearing at his side. Matt gave a single nod and the two vigilantes made their way out of the room and into the hall. Matt allowed Spidey to lead the way, fire blazing around them and nipping at their heels, the floor creaking and groaning as it threatened to give in and send them to their deaths.

"There's a jump here." said Spidey, coming to a sudden stop. "About eleven inches."

"So basically a foot."

"Yes, basically a foot." Matt could almost hear him rolling his eyes.

"Well, ladies first." Spidey said, stepping aside. Matt looked in what he hoped was Spidey's direction with an unamused curve of the mouth, before taking a couple steps back and going off at a sprint, leaping as soon as he felt the tip of his toe go over the gap. The women screamed.

Matt landed on the other side with a thump, turning around to face Spidey. "Assholes last."

"Hey!" Spidey said, but he didn't sound all that offended. Matt made sure to go to the side a little so the younger vigilante had room to land.

Once Spidey had made his jump, the two continued on, sweating inside their costumes and trying not to breathe in the smoke.

"Dammit!" Spidey swore.

"What?"

"The stairs collapsed!"

The women gave a terrified howl, her sobs beginning anew. Matt gave an annoyed groan, seriously considering just knocking her out for all of their sake.

"There's a window not to far from here," Spidey continued. "If we can get to it, I'll be able to lower them down with my webs."

"What about us?" Matt asked, but continued to follow Spiderman in the direction of the window anyway.

"I can web-sling out of here. For you, I can either lower you down with the rest of them or you can hop onto my back and I'll spider-back ride you to a rooftop or something."

"Er... I'll take the spider-back ride." Matt decided, dodging another falling pillar. No vigilante would get too excited about jumping into a crowd of police, no matter what their relationship was with them.

Spidey chuckled, coming to a stop. He raised his foot and smashed open the window, spraying glass onto the street bellow. "Alright," he said, addressing their still conscious passengers. "I'm going to lower you down one at a time."

Matt listened as Spiderman wrapped one of the men in his webs, before starting to slowly descend him out the window. Upon immediate sight, firemen and police rushed towards that direction of the office building so that they were under the man, prepared to catch him in case the web snapped (not like that has ever happened before, as far as Matt knew).

"One." said Spidey, indicating that the man had reached safety. He tied the second man, the one that had shouted at Matt not to leave him, up in another strand of web and lowered him down. "Two."

When Spiderman turned to Daredevil, he immediately handed him the sobbing women, part out of pity and part out of irritation. Okay, he got that she was scared, and he couldn't really blame her, but when you're blind and have highly sensitive ears that pick up every single little noise, you'd be irritated with her too.

"Three." Spidey said, and Matt handed him the last man, the only unconscious one.

"Aaaand four. Okay, now lets-"

The floor collapsed.

Matt gave a surprised yell, but almost immediately a hand grabbed his wrist, leaving him dangling above god knows how far a drop.

"Are you okay?" Spidey called down from above him.

"Yup. That is you holding my wrist, right?"

"Yeah, I shot a web at the ceiling. We gotta get out of here."

"Can you still reach the window?" Matt asked.

"Um... yeah, not that far. But, er... I'm gonna have to throw you up."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm going to throw you out the window and then I'll jump after you, grab you, and swing to safety."

Matt sighed. "Whatever you say, Tarzan."

"On three."

"Just do it."

"One..."

"No, seriously, could we just do it and get it-"

"Twothree!"

Matt suddenly found himself flying through the air, the burning heat inside the office building giving away to a cool nights breeze. He heard someone scream, and steeled himself as he began to fall. From his guess of how many stairs he'd had to go up, he would say he and Spidey had been on the thirteenth floor or something. But then again, he'd gone through a window, so he could be fallen from somewhere much higher.

Well, if he dies now, the last words Foggy said to him would be "That cloud looks like a dick."

Then he felt someone grab his wrist and he was yanked upwards, feeling himself swinging through the air. He heard gasps from bellow and the sound of clicking cameras.

Matt's feet hit solid ground, probably on the roof, and he heard Spidey land beside him.

"So..." the younger vigilante said, after a moment. "I'm Spiderman."

"Daredevil." Matt reached forward for a handshake, which Spidey accepted. "Pleasure to meet you. Where you been the past month?"

"Oh, you know, some assholes tried to murder me, got saved by Iron Man and now I have to break into a science industries to stop some nutter from using my blood to create some sort of evil mutant army. Well, at least that's what I'm guessing he's going to use it for."

"How'd he get your blood?" asked Matt.

"Er... long story. Anyway, I better get going. I need to break in and out of Oscorp before sunrise."

"Oscorp?"

Matt grabbed his batons, spinning around to face the intruder.

"Wow, wow, wow! Put the hitty-sticky thingies away, please!"

"Wade?" said Spidey, who, from the sound of it, was also taken by surprise. "What are you _doing_ here?"

"I got lonesome." said Wade. Matt sheathed his batons. "You're breaking into Oscorp again? Didn't you, like, _just_ get out of there?"

"That was almost a week ago. Besides, they've got my blood and I've gotta get it back before they do any tests on it. Who knows what they'll do with it?"

"Create an army of your brethren?"

"I- What?"

"An army of spiders."

"That's not... never mind. I've got to get going. I've only got a few hours before sunrise and I'd like to get some sleep tonight."

Spidey turned, holding his arms up to web-sling out of there.

"Wait!" Deadpool said, gaining both Spiderman's and Daredevil's attention.

"What?" Matt asked.

"Does anyone know where I can get a hot science-y chick?"

Spidey sighed, rolling his eyes behind his mask.

"I mean, like, hey!" Deadpool continued, "Maybe there's one at Oscorp!"

"You're not coming with me."

"Aw, come on!" groaned Deadpool, flopping forward and clinging onto Spidey's leg. "Hot science-y chick!"

"Wade-"

" _Hot science-y chick!"_

"Wade, I'm not-"

 _"I want my hot science-y chick!"_

"Alright, fine!" Spidey yelled, kicking Deadpool off him, who cheered. "But you better not get in my way."

"Can I come?" Matt asked. Spidey looked at him in surprise.

"You wanna come?"

Matt shrugged. "It sounds fun."

Spidey looked from Daredevil to Deadpool, then Deadpool to Daredevil. Finally, he gave an annoyed groan. "Oh, _fine_."

"How we gonna get there?" Deadpool asked, climbing to his feet.

"Web-slinging."

"Ooo, you going to carry us bridal style?"

"No, Devil's going to hold onto my leg and you're going to hold onto his."

"Can I hold onto _your_ leg?"

"No, Wade. I specifically chose Daredevil."

Deadpool huffed, crossing his arms and grumbling about 'meanies.'

"Seriously, though," said Matt, as they prepared themselves for a swing to Oscorp (yes, pun intended). "Where did you _come_ from?"

"Oh, you know," Deadpool shrugged, "A women's vagina. Oh, I'm sorry for killing you in that other dimension by the way."

"Other dimen... what?"

"Just ignore him." said Spidey. "Now let's go get my blood back."

"That doesn't sound right." Matt muttered, but shrugged it off and allowed himself to be swung across the city, holding onto the leg of a spider-enhanced vigilante with a giggling man dangling from his own legs.

* * *

 **TEAM RED BEGINS! _Avoiding War_ will be updated on April Fool's day (next Friday) at the latest.**


	13. Chapter 13

"You sure this will work?" Peter asked, looking nervously at the front doors of Oscorp.

"Of course it will!" exclaimed Wade, zipping up his hoodie and pulling the hood up, hiding his face. "Why shouldn't it."

"Well, most of them have already seen me without my mask on, for instance."

Wade gave a shrug, "They probably won't recognize you."

"And if they do?" Matt asked.

The three of them had taken their masks off, with the promise that they will never ever tell _anyone_ what Matt looks like, and, well, Peter and Wade have already seen each other without their masks and Matt was blind, so it wasn't much of a problem. They were wearing hoodies that Wade had 'borrowed' ("We _are_ returning them!" said Peter) from a gift shop, their pants (admittedly rather badly) barely going off as normal pants.

"If they _do_ recognize us," Deadpool said, "We run for the hills."

Peter looked away from the front door of Oscorp across the street to glance at Deadpool's poorly concealed face, before turning to Matt and pointing at his sunglasses. "Can I borrow those?"

"Borrow what?" asked Matt, looking in Peter's direction.

"You're glasses."

"Oh, yeah, sure."

Peter took Daredevil's sunglasses and slipped them onto Deadpool's face, who grinned. "Ooo, pretty colors! It's as if everything's painted in blood!" then, his voice turning deep, "Just like the walls of Oscorp will be."

"We are _not_ killing anyone." said Peter firmly, glaring at the mercenary. "We're just going to go in there, ask to use their toilet and then slip away and find my blood. In and out. Got it?"

Deadpool saluted. "Yes, ma'am!"

Daredevil snorted.

Spidey sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. This was going to be _hectic_. "Alright," he said, looking at the doors to Oscorp with dread. "Let's go."

The trio marched across the street, the doors opening by themselves as they entered the building. Peter took a quick look around, his eyes scanning the place. Seeing as how it was so late, the lobby was nearly empty. There was a mail man, working late, and a female secretary doing her nails at the counter and watching a YouTube video.

"Devil," Peter whispered, "Hold onto the end of my hoodie. Not sure if you really have to, but if you don't you've got to pretend you really have no idea where you're going."

Matt obediently reached forward and gripped the bottom of Peter's blue hoodie, and the three walked towards the front desk. The women looked up from her nails, raising a perfect eyebrow in surprise, taking in their strange clothing.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"Er, yeah." said Matt, as they came to a stop in front of the desk. Blindly, he gestured in the direction of Peter. "My, er, little brother needs to use the toilet. Could we borrow yours real quick? It'll only take a moment."

The women didn't look convinced. "And who are you people?"

"Oh, er," Peter scrambled for a name, "I'm Tobey. These are my older brothers, er..." he pointed at Matt, "Charlie and, um," he gestured weakly at Wade, "Ryan."

"Surnames?" asked the women, writing something down on a piece of paper.

"Er, Walker."

Matt spoke up, "We're here for a, um, concert-"

"Yeah, yeah," Wade quickly agreed, "Called the, um, the... er... Big..." his eyes trailed down to the secretaries chest, "...Boobies..."

The women still looked unconvinced, "The 'Big Boobies'?"

"Yeah..." Peter cleared his throat, mentally cursing Deadpool, "They're very... very good... er, singers."

"You have no idea what that nearly sounded like." Wade whispered in his ear. Peter kicked him, giving the secretary a smile and a nervous chuckle.

The women sighed, "Fine. Down the hall, take the elevator to your left and on the second floor there's a bathroom right across. Take as long as you want, I don't really care."

"Thanks!" Peter said, jogging in the direction of said elevator and letting out a relieved breath. He quickly pressed the button to call the elevator, slipping in with Deadpool and Daredevil. Matt let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding once he heard the doors closed.

"Well," said Wade, after a moment, "That certainly went well."

"Big _Boobies_?" Peter growled, turning to glare at the Merc With A Mouth.

"It was the first thing I thought of!" Deadpool defended. Matt wondered how he wasn't dead yet.

Peter pressed the button for floor eight, and the elevator began to go up, a cheerful supermarket song starting to play.

"So, what's the plan, exactly?" Matt asked, "Going in, getting your blood and then getting out isn't much of plan."

"Yeah, okay," said Peter, watching the numbers slowly going up above the doors, "We'll be on floor eight, and my blood is most likely kept in Lab 74."

"And if it's not?"

"Then we find a computer, hack into it and find out where it might be." Peter stated, "If someone walks in on us, we talk our way out of it. That doesn't work, he knock them out and hide them somewhere, preferably someplace they can't get out of easily in case they wake up and we're still here."

"What if your bloods not even in Oscorp?" Wade asked, "For all we know, this guy could be some sort of vampire and drank it to become a Spider-Vamp! Wouldn't that be _awesome_?"

"If it isn't here," said Peter, deciding to ignore that last part. The elevator dinged as it reached eight. "Then we're doomed. Now, remember, _stealth mode_."

The elevator doors slid open, revealing a man in a lab coat, carrying a foam cup of coffee. When he made eye contact with Peter, his eyes widened and he gaped.

" _Spider-"_

A scabbed hand punched the Science-Doctor right on top of the head, making his eyes roll into the back of his head and his body go limp. He crumpled to the floor as if he were a rag doll, leaving a vigilante and mercenary starring at him and a blind devil looking straight ahead.

"Wait, what?" said Matt.

"Well, that didn't last long." Peter muttered. He stuck his head out of the elevator, looking left and right to make sure there wasn't anyone else in the hall, before looking back down at the fallen Science-Doctor. "What should we do with him?"

"Oh!" Deadpool said excitedly, throwing his hand into the air above his head and jumping up and down, as if he were a little kid in school who knew the answer to the teachers question. "Pick me, pick me, pick me!"

"Anyone else?" Peter asked, looking hopefully at Daredevil, who shrugged in his direction. Peter sighed in defeat, slowly turning to Wade. "Alright, what's your idea, Wade?"

"Simple and sufficient!" said Deadpool, pulling a roll of grey duct tape out of his hoodie pocket and pulling a strip out of line. Peter winced at the sight of it, looking down at the Science-Doctor in pity.

Once the Science-Doctor had been tapped to the ceiling of the elevator, the trio made their way down the hall, Peter bringing out Gwen's card and swiping open doors with keypads. After about two or four of these doors, they came to a hall of lab doors, with numbers on the front. Peter, Wade and Matt continued down this hall, Peter counting the numbers on the lab doors under his breath.

"Sixty-sixty, sixty-seven, sixty-eight, sixty-nine, seventy, seventy-one, seventy-two, seventy-three... here!"

Peter pulled out Gwen's keycard yet again, swiping it through the access panel. It beeped loudly, the screen flashing red. _"Access denied."_ said a robotic, feminine voice. Peter cursed under his breath, looking around for another way in.

Wade gripped his shoulder and shook it and, when he'd obtained the vigilante's attention, he pointed to the ceiling. Spidey allowed his eyes to follow Deadpool's finger, his gaze landing on a grate, its silver frame glinting in the moon light from the window.

Peter closed his eyes, sighed, and steeled himself. "Let's go."

* * *

Back in costume, masks hiding their faces, the trio in red crawled through the air vents, Spiderman in the lead and Deadpool bringing up the rear, who seemed to have become rather annoyingly chatty.

"-so I was like, _"No these are my pancakes, you can't have any"_ and she was all like, _"Oh, you're such a badass, Mister Pool, won't you just come over here and lick my breasts? I'm like, your number one fan!"_ and so I was just like, _"Who am I to deny my fans?"_ so we-"

"Wade, we don't want to know." said Matt, far from amused. "You can continue your little fantasy-sex thing in your head."

"Oh, alright, fine." Deadpool groaned, but thankfully became silent. Peter gave a small sigh of relief, a shiver wracking his spine at what the mercenary had put into his head. He did not want to know what Wade did with his 'super-hot fangirls' (who he wasn't even sure actually existed).

They came to another grate, this one on the side of a wall. Peter peered through it, trying to decide if this was Lab 74 or not. The last one had been a girls bathroom, but this room actually looked like a lab. Except he wasn't sure if it was the lab he was looking for.

Spidey was about to kick open the grate and have a quick look around when the door gave a loud _BEEP_ , and he froze, watching as the door was opened and two men walked into the room. One wore a lab coat and was positively Richard Parker, and the other one was a blond man with part-square, part-circle black glasses, wore a gray business suit and was probably in his early forties.

"Hey, I know him!" Deadpool whispered loudly, suddenly appearing at Peter's side and making him jump. "That's the guy who assigned me to capture you. What was his name again? Happy Turtle?"

"Hop-Frog," Richard said, sitting in a chair. "Wasn't it?"

"Ah, there we go." whispered Wade, only to be shoved into Peter a moment later to make room for Matt. "Oh, come on, you can't even see anything!"

"It helps me hear better."

The blond man, Hop-Frog, scowled but nodded, reluctantly taking the seat in front of Richard. "Yes, that's what my... _boss_ has dubbed me."

"You're the, ah, master of the assassin with the robotic arm, correct?" when Hop-Frog nodded, Richard grinned and clapped his hands together, "Great, great... I was one of the scientists to help create that _magnificent_ arm of his, by the way. It's very- very futuristic, isn't it?"

When Hop-Frog only continued to scowl, Richard hurriedly changed the subject. "Right, right, down the business, then." he stuffed his hand into his lab coat pocket, pulling out a vial of red liquid. Peter couldn't help the gasp that escaped his lips.

"And what is that?" Hop-Frog asked, looking at the vial wearily.

" _This_ ," said Richard, holding the vial up to the light and grinning at it, an almost _possessive_ glint in his eye, "Is the blood of the only survivor of my super serum."

Hop-Frog's eyebrows rose to his hairline. "I thought there were no survivors."

"So did I," continued Richard, "But apparently not. You remember my son, Peter, yes?"

Wade looked from Richard to Peter, then from Peter to Richard and back again. Peter ignored him for the time being, deciding to focus on what was being said instead of explaining his complicated backstory with the man in front of them.

"The one that shot me with a Nerf gun?" asked Hop-Frog. Matt snorted quietly. "Yes, I remember him. Smart one, he was."

"He's alive." said Richard, leaning forward in his seat. He held up the vial again. "This is his blood. The serum worked; it just took a while to show itself."

"It did, did it?" asked Hop-Frog, looking greedily at the vial of blood, which Richard was dangling almost tauntingly in front of him. "And you can prove this?"

Richard nodded, "Yes. But we tested it on adult subjects multiple times. It only ever worked on Peter, who was about five or six at the time. You get me some children to test it on, and I'll give you results. _Positive_ results."

"I'm not so sure about this, Dick." said Hop-Frog, clenching his jaw and rubbing absentmindedly at his hand. "The Other's wrath is vicious and unrelenting. You should have seen what he did to Pocket... we've already lost eleven agents."

"But this is _fact_." Richard insisted, "Once I recreate the serum from Peter's blood, I'll be able to put it in the children and, once they're in their late teens, the serum will start to take effect. It will take a couple years, but it's a guarantee that it'll work and you can train the children in the mean time. Toughen them up a bit."

Hop-Frog sighed. "Alright, fine. But this better work, Parker."

He climbed to his feet and, without another word, left the lab. Richard sighed, leaning back in his seat. He held up the vial of dark liquid, admiring it for a moment, before he stood and walked over to one of the many metal cabinets.

Pulling out a key and opening it, Richard gently set the vial into the drawer, before closing it, locking it and vanishing behind another door, a different one from the one that Hop-Frog had left through. Upon catching a brief glimpse of it's insides, Peter realized it was a bathroom.

They didn't have much time, then.

Removing the grate as quickly as he dared, Peter hopped down from the air vents, landing silently on top of an empty lab table under them, quickly followed by Wade and Matt. The trio in red quickly made their way over to the metal cabinets.

"How we gonna open it?" asked Spidey. " _Quietly_." he added, giving Deadpool a glare. The mercenary gave a disappointed groan, sadly dropping his hand from where it had gone up to grip one of his swords. Daredevil stepped forward.

"Give me 'bout ten minutes and I'll be able to pick it."

Peter nodded, relieved. "Good. Wade, you guard the bathroom door, warn us if Parker's coming. I'll guard the other door. Make it quick, Devil."

"Got it, Captain Spider." Matt muttered sarcastically, turning to the metal cabinet and feeling the lock to help choose the right tool to use. Peter and Wade took up their positions near the doors.

Six tense minutes passed, the toilet flushing and the sound of the tap turning on coming from the bathroom door. Peter felt sweat bead the back of his neck, his hands turning clammy. He took deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart. Now was not the time to go into panic.

"I got it." Daredevil declared, opening the cabinet and pulling out the vial, the red liquid that was Spidey's blood glistening inside it. Peter let out a relieved breath, glancing out the little window on the door. He did a double-take, heart jumping.

Hop-Frog was coming back.

Muttering a curse word, Peter launched into action. The air vent was on the other side of the room, and there wasn't enough time to get all three of them in it and close the grate behind them without being noticed. There was a window, but it was closed, and they only had about eight seconds before Hop-Frog was here. So, grabbing Daredevil's arm, he opened a metal closet and shoved him inside.

"Wade, get in here!" he hissed between clenched teeth. Deadpool sprang forward, squeezing unnecessarily close to Peter, and closed the closet doors, just as the other door opened and Hop-Frog strode in, shouting Richard's name while stuffing his phone back into his pocket. Peter and Wade peered through the crack between the two metal doors, Matt pressing his ear against the thin metal for better hearing access.

"Parker!" Hop-Frog shouted again. A moment later, the bathroom door opened with a little _click_ and Richard stepped out, drying his hands with a paper towel and looking rather annoyed.

"What now, Hop-Frog?" he asked, trying- and only semi-succeeding- to sound pleasant. He bundled the paper towel into a ball and threw it towards the trash can. It it the edge and fell, landing on the ground beside it. Richard shrugged, turning to the scowling man, who too looked like he would rather be going.

"Those files." Peter tensed. "The ones we sent you a couple days ago? Have you gotten them? No one called to tell us if you had."

Richard blinked at him for a moment, before awkwardly clearing his throat, "Yes, well, you see... our computers were whipped during Spiderman's escape, and, er..."

Hop-Frog's eyes flashed dangerously. "You never got them?" he spat, leaning in close to Richard's face. "You mean to tell me that the files holding information on every known and unknown hero, villain and anti in the entire _universe,_ everyone with a single _ounce_ of power, are in the hands of the SUPERHERO SPIDERMAN?!"

"N-Now, Hoppy-" Hop-Frog only looked even more furious at the nickname, and Richard rushed to correct himself, fumbling over his tongue, " _Sir_ , I mean. They've probably handed it into SHIELD and a HYDRA agent can _easily_ get their hands on it. R-Right?" he gave a nervous laugh.

Hop-Frog leaned in even closer, his face bright, tomato red. Peter was reminded of a small child about to throw a tantrum.

 _"They better."_ he spits, before turning on his heels and stomping out the room, slamming the door behind him. Richard let out a shaky breath, closing his eyes for a moment. After a moment of pulling himself together, Richard gives a charming smile in the direction of the- now empty- cabinet and follows after Hop-Frog, flipping off the lights on his way out.

The three waited a moment, in case he came back, but once a minute passed, Peter jumped out the cupboard, Wade and Matt following. His heart was beating incredibly fast, his hands clammy under his gloves and his face too hot under his mask. He took deep breaths, closing his eyes for a moment, trying to push away a looming panic attack.

"Spidey?" Matt said quietly, sounding concerned. "Your heart rate's spiked. Are you okay?"

Peter let out a long breath, opening his eyes. "Y-Yeah. I'm fine. Let's just- let's just get out of here."

Spotting a window, and not wanting to crawl through the vents and go out the front door again, Peter stalked towards it, opening it and letting out a small sigh when a gust of cold air hit him through the thin fabric of the mask. He hopped up onto the windowsill and inched onto the tiny little ledge on the side of the building, bringing a hand up to stick to the wall, Matt coming up behind him and crouching on the windowsill next to him.

Daredevil reached over and grasped Spiderman's ankle firmly with one hand, giving the other vigilante a nod to show he was ready. Deadpool was looking down on the street bellow, half out the window and half in, babbling again.

"-you know, that Hoppy guy should be called Tomato-Frog or Hop-Tomato or something, his face was that red... Hot-Tomato? Potato? What do you guys th-"

Wade was suddenly cut off as Peter jumped, shooting a web and beginning to swing. Matt, just in time, reached out and grabbed Deadpool's leg, the one dangling in the air, dragging him with them and making the mercenary hit his head on the window on the way out.

"WEEEE! Look at all the pwetty colors!"

Peter rolled his eyes, as Wade continued to babble, no longer listening. He doubted Matt was listening anymore either. He was just glad to have his blood back.

They landed on a rooftop a little ways from Oscorp, Matt dropping Wade on his head, who rolled to his feet almost immediately. Matt turned to Peter, crossing his arms and probably raising an eyebrow at him under the mask.

"So," he said casually. "What's with these, ah, "Hero Files"?"

* * *

 **HAPPY APRIL FOOLS DAY!**

 **Anyway, I'm thinking of adding Miles Morales, the Black Spiderman, into this. Or perhaps in a sequel, and no Multi-Universe (I'm not killing Peter off, don't worry!). Like maybe make him Spidey's sidekick. But with a different superhero name, like Black Web or something. I don't really like Kid Arachnid.**

 **But that's for another time. Maybe in a sequel or later in the story. *shrugs* Guess we'll wait and see!**

 **Oh, and I meant to update _Avoiding War_ but felt like writing this instead. So _Avoiding War_ will be updated next Friday, April 8th. I'm going to try and update one of these stories every Friday from now on, and if I don't, expect it on Monday at the latest.**


	14. Chapter 14

Peter told them everything. From the Files to the Avengers adopting him. His aunt's death, how Richard's his father, how he experimented on him. He told Matt and Wade everything he's been holding in; everything he's wanted to tell the Avengers, but just couldn't bring himself to.

Daredevil and even Deadpool were completely silent throughout his whole explanation. Wade's hands had curled into fists when he explained how he'd been given his fathers faulty serum, but he said and did nothing.

When Peter finished, they stood in silence for a moment, no one knowing what to say, Deadpool and Daredevil silently processing his words. Finally, Matt let out a long sigh, crossing his arms and sucking on the inside of his cheek.

"So let me get this straight," he said, "This Richard guy is your dad, who you thought had died over ten years ago, who experimented on you when you were six and who thinks that, because of this experimentation, you got your powers?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah."

"And when you were escaping him," continued Matt, "You found these... documents, these files, that has everything on everyone with a single bit of power down to the last detail?"

"Yes."

"And you decided to keep this from the Avengers?"

Peter hesitated, ashamed, as if he were a child getting a scolding, "Yeah. Yeah, I did."

"Didn't Hoppy say something about a hydra pretending to be a shield?" asked Deadpool, who was lying on his back, star-gazing despite the light pollution. "I don't really see how that's possible, but whatever, right?"

"HYDRA." Peter breathed, eyes widening. "That's the rouge Nazi organization that Steve and the Howling Commando's fought!"

"You mean Doritos Man?" Wade asked innocently. Peter gave him a strange look, before shaking his head and turning back to Matt.

"They must have still been around after he was frozen." Peter declared. He swallowed, "And they've been inside SHIELD this whole time."

"What's SHIELD?" asked Matt.

"A secret society, made to protect the Earth. It's most likely half HYDRA, half actual SHIELD." explained Peter. "I only learned about it recently, so I don't know much about it."

"Hm..." Matt crossed his arms, head tilted to the side in thought, "And this... SHIELD... is powerful?"

"From what I've gathered, they could hold the world at gunpoint."

They stood in silence, the only sound being the traffic bellow them. They must be near a night club, because loud muffled music could be heard, as well as the chatter and laughter of the people either leaving or trying to convince the security guard to let them in and that they were over eighteen.

"So..." said Deadpool, still lying on the ground, "Are we going to go kick them in the nuts or... ?"

Peter rolled his eyes, Matt's lips twitching in a held back smile. He tilted his head in Peter's direction.

"Can we get a look at these 'Hero Files'? It's completely up to you, seeing as how I don't really see me or Wilson breaking into the Tower after you got kidnapped, but I'd like to know how these guys- whoever they are- got so much information on us, especially since some of us have secret identities. _If_ what you're saying is true."

Peter nodded, faltering a moment later when he realized that Daredevil couldn't see it. "It's true. Promise. And since you guys won't hand it into SHIELD, I _guess_ it'll be... alright, if I show you the files." He wasn't so sure about that, actually. Daredevil, maybe, but what about Deadpool? He wasn't so sure he wanted to put every heroes, villains and antis weakness, strength and origin story into his hands.

Matt nodded. "Great. Thank you. We promise not to tell anyone about anything we see. Right, _Wade_?" Peter was sure that if the older vigilante could glare, Deadpool would be on the receiving end of one. Still on the ground, Wade brought his hand up to his forehead in a mock salute.

"Ai, ai, Captain Satan!"

Daredevil's jaw clenched. "Please don't call me-"

He was interrupted by a scream of terror. Wade was immediately on his feet, katana's drawn, and Spiderman and Daredevil were already sprinting across the roof in the direction of the scream.

Peter leaped off the edge of the roof, a string of web shooting from his wrist and attaching to the building to his right. His arm jerked at the sudden stop of his fall, and if he were a normal human it would have surely torn his arm out of its socket.

He swung in a large arc, bringing up his other arm and shooting another web so he could continue his trail and not smash into a building. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Daredevil leaping from building to building and, bellow him, he could hear Deadpool shoving past people and shouting about 'superhero business' to the people cursing at him.

Spiderman was the second one to locate the screams, what with Daredevil's super hearing, but he was the first one one the scene. It was in an alley, outside the night club that they'd heard from the roof, and a man- a boy, really, possibly having just turned eighteen- was on the ground, a much bigger man on top of him.

The bigger man slapped a hand over the boys mouth, a nasty grin on his face. The boy squirmed beneath him, eyes shinning with tears, but it was no use. The man was much heavier than him, and much stronger too.

But then again, this is what vigilantes were for.

Peter swung down, bringing his legs up as he let go of the web, hitting the man right in the side of the head before he even realized they weren't alone. The kick had enough force to knock the man off the boy, who scrambled backwards to press his back against the wall.

While the kick had knocked the man off, it also left Peter skidding across the grimy floor and causing him to tear a bit of his costume at the elbow. Great. Now he had to stitch it up before the Avengers noticed.

As the man stumbled to his feet, Matt landed silently behind him, nose scrunching in distaste. Whether from the smell of the alley or the drunk man, Peter wasn't sure. Maybe it was both.

Matt raised a baton, hitting the man over the head with it and making him fall back down. "This is just pathetic." the vigilante declared, allowing the man to get to his feet again before kicking him back down, "Don't you just hate it that, after a while, criminals just get too easy to take down?"

"Oh, yeah, those nights always suck." Peter agreed, closing the space between him and Matt and effortlessly kicking the man's feet out from under him.

Just then, Wade rounded the corner, waving his katana's around and yelling. He ran right past the boy against the wall, right past Peter and Matt, and straight towards the drunk man.

The man let out a loud, high-pitched scream, covering his head with his arms and curling into a fat ball. Spiderman and Daredevil stepped forward, hands reaching out to stop the Mercenary from tearing the drunk man limb from limb. But this is unnecessary, as Deadpools katanas remain in the air, and his boot stomps down onto the man's side.

The sound of a bone breaking fills the alley, quickly followed by the man's high-pitched screaming. Wade continues on, uncaring, and leaves the sobbing mess behind to tackle a trashcan.

His swords clang and bang against its metal side, denting and scratching and spilling garbage across the alley. Wade grabs a plastic bag filled with rotten food and holds it above him, tearing it apart with a barbaric scream and covering himself in moldy pizza and half-eaten snacks.

"What's... what's he doing?" asked Matt, head tilted to the right. Peter shook his head, knowing that the older vigilante couldn't see it.

"I think," he said slowly, "He's, ah... being... Deadpool. Yeah, that's basically it." Peter turned to the boy, who was watching them from the ground with wide eyes. "I trust you'll call the cops?"

At the boys nodding, Peter gave a satisfied nod of his own and pointed his web-shooter at the drunk man, who was sobbing into the grimy floor. Face twisted into a look of disgust, Peter webbed him down and turned to Wade, who was now hacking apart the bits of trash with his katanas.

"Wade! C'mon, we're leaving."

Deadpool obediently sheathed his katanas and began to follow the two vigilantes out of the alley, but not before turning around and pointing a warning finger at the destroyed trashcan, his voice deepening as he spoke, "I better not see you around here again, got it?"

Peter shot a web and swung back up onto a building a few blocks away from the alley, Matt and Wade quickly following. Sirens began to sound in the distance, the police quickly making their way to the crime scene.

"Anyway," Matt began, "The files. You're going to show us them?"

Peter nodded and, once again realizing he couldn't see it, said, "Yes."

Matt gave a single nod. "Alright then. Tomorrow night, meet me at the Town Hall in Hell's Kitchen. Bring the files. That good?"

"Yeah, that's fine. I'll see you two then." Peter walked to the edge of the building, looking over his shoulder at Daredevil and Deadpool one last time. "Whatever you do, do _not_ come to the Tower unless its an emergency. And keep an eye out for anything suspicious."

"What about him?" asked Wade, jabbing a thumb in Matt's direction. Peter froze, clenching his teeth and letting out a frustrated sign.

"He," Peter growled, "Can keep an _ear_ out. That better?"

"Very." said Matt, smiling in amusement. Peter rolled his eyes, very well knowing that neither of them could see it, and swung off in the direction of Avengers Tower.

* * *

He awoke with a jerk when pain flared up the side of his face.

Peter only had a minute to give a startled blink of confusion before something hit his face again, and again, and again and soon he was curled up into a ball with his arms covering his head.

"What the- ow! Ow, ow! Stop it! Why are you- ow, Jesus Christ- !" He reached forward blindly, his hand closing around a thick wad of paper, and he pulled it out of his attackers hands. Peter rolled to the other side of the bed, his legs tangled in the blankets, and out of hitting range.

When he looked up, scowling, he came face to face with six glaring Avengers. His scowl vanished instantly. "Er... morning."

Natasha, the one who'd been hitting him with the news paper, snatched it back. Peter squeaked, covering his arms with his head as he prepared for another round of hitting, but Natasha only unrolled it and held it out to him, revealing the front page.

Peter blinked at it dumbly for a moment, then he swallowed, his heart dropping to his stomach. The caption **RISE OF TEAM RED** blares at him merrily, the picture under it showing Spiderman swinging across New York with Daredevil holding onto his leg, while holding Deadpool upside down in his other hand. It must have been taken while they were leaving Oscorp.

Peter looked up from the newspaper to the Avengers, who were all looking at him expectantly. He opened his mouth; closed it. He opened it again.

"That's not me."

Natasha's hand sprang up with incredible speed and latched onto Peter's ear, dragging him out of bed with a loud startled yelp. Peter regained his feet, trying- and failing- to tug his ear out of the Widow's hold. Natasha dragged him out of the bedroom and down the hall, the others following behind them.

"Nat, let go-"

Peter winced as Natasha pushed him onto the couch, giving him a death glare that made him want to sink into the couch and disappear.

The others came into the room then, Bruce sitting net to him and tugging off the teens shirt to check his wounds. Tony stood behind them, jaw set and arms crossed just bellow his Arc Reactor, Steve sitting on Peter's other side, while the others sat down on the other couches and recliners.

When Bruce gave Steve a nod to indicate the vigilantes wounds were fine, the others let out sighs of relief. Steve cast his eyes from his teammates to the kitchen and, understanding, they all stood and made their way over there for some breakfast, leaving only Tony, Steve and Peter.

Tony came around the couch to stand next to Steve, leaning against the armrest and raising an eyebrow at Peter, who was very carefully looking anywhere but at them.

The two men shared a look, before Steve sighed and gently grabbed Peter's chin, forcing him to look at him. "Peter," he said softly, "Why'd you go out without telling us?"

Peter grimaced. "Uh... old habits?"

Tony gave a disbelieving snort, and Peter winced. Steve rose his eyebrows at him. "You can do better then that."

"I haven't been out as Spiderman for nearly a month. So I thought that since my wounds are almost healed, I could... you know... beat the crap out of people."

It wasn't a total lie. It _had_ been a while since he'd gone out on patrol, and he _did_ save those people from the burning building and that boy from getting raped. He just didn't tell them about going back to Oscorp. He... he just _couldn't._ He never told Aunt May, he never told anybody, and he probably wouldn't have told Gwen if she hadn't found out herself.

But... maybe it's also because he was afraid they'd back out of the adoption. They were the _Avengers_ and he was just some stupid kid that got bit by a spider and wanted to avenge his uncle. If they decide he's too much trouble- _when_ they decide he's too much trouble, what'll happen to him? Will he be put in a foster home? Will he even be in New York anymore?

He _wanted_ to be apart of their family. He just wasn't sure they'd want _him_.

Steve sighed, bringing Peter out of his thoughts, and slid off the couch to kneel in front of him, his large hands resting on the vigilantes knees.

"Promise me," said Steve, looking Peter right in the eye, "Promise me you'll take a break from being Spiderman. Just until your healed enough to not get hurt."

Peter opened his mouth, wanting to say he couldn't promise him, but he couldn't bring himself to. He didn't want to worry Steve, or Tony, and dammit, who knew Captain America could make you feel like you've just kicked a Labrador?

But the others... they were expecting him.

So, with a reluctant sigh, Peter crossed his fingers behind his back, "I promise."

Steve smiled at him, reaching up and ruffling his hair. He stood up and made his way to the kitchen, calling over his shoulder about how he hopped Peter liked waffles.

Tony was still looking at him, a knowing look on his face. "You crossed your fingers." It wasn't a question. They both knew that. Peter sighed.

"Are you gonna tell him?"

Tony shrugged. "I'm not even sure he knows about crossed fingers." he frowned, suddenly serious, "You're hiding something. But I don't really see you giving Sweetie Stevie a false promise, so it must be important. You're gonna tell us, eventually, right? If not me or Steve, then one of the others?"

"Three others know. No one else." said Peter quietly, crossing his arms over his stomach. Tony sighed, giving a small nod.

"Alright. I get it. We only met a month ago, after all, and... yeah... just, tell us eventually? I don't care if its now or years after its over, just... tell us."

Tony stood up then, giving Peter one last long look, before following the others into the kitchen. Leaving Peter alone in the living room, resigned to the guilt clawing at his heart.

* * *

After he'd eaten his blueberry waffles and had to help clean the dishes, which he would be doing every day after meals for a week as punishment, Peter excused himself to the bathroom. He made his way to the one in the hall, before dashing inside his bedroom and grabbing the vial- still filled with his blood- from under his pillow.

He locked the door behind him, pressing his back against it and looking at the small glass bottle in his hands. It was small, small enough to fit in his palm, and it had caused him so much damn trouble. Now that it was over thought, what to do with it?

Maybe he could just pour it down the drain. Peter uncapped the vial and held it over the sink, but froze, worrying his lip, before he poured any blood. Who knew what could happen to it if it went to the sewers? This was one hell of a world, after all, and you couldn't just get rid of something by throwing it away like garbage if it's something has important and dangerous as his enhanced spider-teen blood.

At that thought, Peter withdrew the vial from the sink, pressing it against his chest with sigh. So no pouring it down the drain. Then what? Feed it to a plant?

Peter blinked, and then groaned. He'd never liked the taste of blood.

That came out wrong.

Sighing, Peter straightened, catching his reflections eyes. He gave it a weak grin, holding the vial up a little. "Bottoms up." He tilted his head all the way back and downed it all in one, chocking at the taste. He forced it down with a grimace, before turning to the sink and washing out the vial.

He sat it on the edge of the sink and cupped his hands under the rushing water, bringing his hands to his mouth and taking in a mouthful of the cool liquid. Peter sloshed it around in his mouth to get the taste out and spat it back out, turning off the tap and thus stopping the flow of water.

Turning to the vial, Peter sat it on the tiled floor, brought his foot up and smashed it into little shards. He bent down and carefully brushed it into his hand, careful not to cut himself and dumped it all into the toilet.

He flushed it and made his way back into the living room, where Clint was teaching Thor how to play Mario Cart. In the kitchen, he spotted Steve on the phone and briefly wondered who he was talking to, before shrugging it off an sitting on the couch.

"GAH! What has happened to my side of the moving pictures?" Thor yelled, as his side of the screen obtained a black splatter that made it hard to see.

"You've been inked." Clint explained calmly, "That's, like, the worst one. It'll go away in a second."

Half an hour later, Peter found himself with the third controller and the screen split into three. To his surprise, once Thor got the hang of it he began winning more and more.

"Aw, come on!" Peter exclaimed, as Thor rammed into him and pushed him into a pit of lava. "That's just mean."

Clint looked up from the screen, raising an eyebrow. "Where are you two going?"

Peter followed his gaze to find Steve and Natasha, both geared up and armed. He blinked at them, looking curiously at the brightly colored shield on Steve's back,

"Fury's given us a new mission. Shouldn't take long, we'll probably be back by next week at the latest." said Steve, walking over to them. He reached out, ruffling Peter's hair affectionately. "I'll see you in a little while. Be good for Tony, okay?"

Peter gave him a small grin, nodding. "Kick them to tomorrow."

Steve laughed, giving Peter's shoulder a squeeze, before following Natasha to the elevator. It closed behind them, and they were gone. Clint unpaused the game, and was almost immediately hit by a red shell.

"Dammit, Thor!"

* * *

 **I'm so sorry for this late updated. I'll be on a plane to Scotland in a couple hours and wanted to updated this before I left. I won't be writing anything until I get back in a week, but I'll try to get chapter fifteen up by early June.**

 **Anyway, please leave me a review! One time, I posted this Harry Potter (at least I think it was Harry Potter) story and I got like, two reviews every two chapters and I just stopped writing it. So please, reviews seriously do help!**

 **Also, I didn't look this over to edit the mistakes, so there are most likely quite a few mistakes. Feel free to point them out and if they're really bad, I'll fix them and repost this chapter. See ya next week!**


	15. Chapter 15

It was a chilly night, the trees scattered across the bustling city's leaves starting to change color as Autumn arrived. A few people were already bringing down their Halloween decorations from the attic or up from the basement, early decorations and candy appearing in shops, but nothing would really be up until next week or so.

The costume Tony made him protected him from the cold wind, so he could stop wearing his jacket during winter patrols. It was also very comfortable, much more easy to get on and off, but what Peter truly loves about his new costume were the robotic eye lenses.

Peter was surprised when he left the Tower without incident, having been sure JARVIS would alert someone and he'd just get into even more trouble. But then again, Tony knew something was up, and he wasn't pushing because he probably thought, while he was to be one of Peter's main guardians, he had barely known the teenager personally for a month.

And while that made Peter's heart clench in guilt, he knew it was currently for the best. He needed to have this meeting with Daredevil and Deadpool, and he was guilty about lying to Steve and the others about not going out again, but he couldn't take a break. Not yet, not with Richard and HYDRA and the Files weighing down his mind.

Peter let go of the bio-cable, splaying his palms and feet and bracing his arms and legs for impact. He hit the side of the Town Hall, the microscopic hairs on his hands and feet sticking to the bricks. He peeled his right hand off and moved it up, then did the same with his left leg, then his left hand and his right leg.

He crawled up the side of the building, counting the windows, searching for the one Matt had told him to look for. He'd said he'd leave it open for him, and that it would be the ninth window up. Shouldn't be hard to miss (although he did wonder how he knew it was the ninth up when he had no working eyesight).

Sure enough, Peter spotted the open window after a minute or two of searching. He scrambled through it, pushing aside a thick blue curtain and taking a quick look around to make sure there wasn't any civilians to question him.

But there were no civilians, just Deadpool spinning around on an office chair and Daredevil sitting at a table, nursing a cup of coffee. He looked up as Spiderman came in, tilting his head to the side to listen.

"Peter?"

"Yeah, it's me." said Peter, sitting across from the other vigilante. He reached behind him and grabbed the office chair, stopping Wade's spinning before he made himself sick. The Mercenary grabbed his arm, giggling, and fell onto the floor when Peter pulled it out of his grip.

He gave another giggle. "I feel like I'm about to vomit!"

Peter shook his head, turning to Matt. "Have you got a computer?"

For an answer, Matt reached over to the edge of the table and dragged over a white laptop. "I borrowed it from a friend. You got the Files?"

Peter pulled the USB from his pocket. "Right here."

Matt pushed the laptop towards him, a clear invitation, and Peter spun it around so it was facing him. He lifted the screen and turned it on, sliding the slick device into the USB socket. After a moment, the files came up.

Wade got to his feet and peered over Peter's shoulder as the vigilante began scrolling through it, reading random things out to Matt. When the lawyer asked for him to read out the Daredevil file, Peter did so without comment.

By the end of it, Matt's brow was furrowed, his elbows resting on the table and his hands clasped together in front of his mouth, almost like a prayer. His useless brown eyes stared straight ahead.

"Oh, oh, me next, me next!" Wade suddenly exclaimed, shoving Peter out of the chair, who gave a startled yell. Matt jumped out of his thoughts, startled.

Peter stood up, scowling, watching as Wade clicked on his own file. He rolled his eyes, pulling up the office chair to sit next to him and read it out loud for Matt.

"You have cancer?" Peter asked a quarter ways through, eyes turning to Wade. The Mercenary shrugged.

"Yeah, brain cancer. Just keep reading, it'll explain more."

Peter did so, quickly discovering how the Merc With A Mouth became Deadpool. Through torture and experimentation that stopped his illness from worsening but left him permanently scarred and scabbed. It's no wonder he was insane.

"How did they get all this?" Matt asked, once they were done, leaning back in his chair and shaking his head. "I'm not sure if I should be terrified or relieved that you got it in time."

Peter sighed. "Honestly, neither do I. What should we do with it now?"

"Find out who wrote them." said Matt, leaning forward again, "Do you have any idea who it could be?"

Peter shook his head, wincing when he realized Matt couldn't see it. "No. I've been going through them ever since getting them, mostly at random, but there's nothing. No signature, no symbol, no nothing. The only thing I've gotten so far is that they're in alphabetical order."

"How about we take a quick look at each file starting with a new letter?" Matt suggested, grasping at straws, "The first A, the first B, the first C, the first D and so on."

Peter gave a small sigh, turning back to the laptop. "It's worth a shot."

Matt took a device out of his pocket, clicking it as if it were a pen. A red light began blinking on the end, recording Peter's voice as he began reading and some of Wade's unhelpful and mostly inappropriate commentary.

Abomination had nothing of interest in it, as Peter already knew, but he still read it out to Matt and Wade in case they spotted something. The first one in the B's was Black Panther, which was actually kind of interesting. Peter had heard of Wakanda before, and their king T'Chaka, but he hadn't really put that much thought into it. Apparently though, they had highly advanced technology that could rival even Tony's. But it had nothing they were looking for.

The first C, it turned out, was Captain America.

Pushing down his guilt and telling himself that the files had so far never revealed anything incredibly personal, Peter clicked on it and began reading out Steve's origin. How he'd been a five foot something asthmatic, determined to join the army and help fight the war. How he'd met Dr. Erskine and got accepted into Project: Rebirth, and then how the project was a success and that someone from HYDRA tried to steal the serum and ended up committing suicide to avoid capture. Then there was the performing, and how Steve went on tour around America singing and dancing for twelve year old's, then about how he broke into a HYDRA base to save his best friend, Bucky Barnes, and was finally accepted into the army as a real soldier.

There was a brief description of Bucky's fall into the Alps, which had a barricaded link saying _(Winter Soldier)_ right next to it. Peter made a mental note to check that out, before continuing on to how they captured Zola and interrogated him, and how Steve became determined to avenge his fallen friend. Peter read about him crashing the _Valkyrie_ into the sea after the Red Skull's defeat, talking to Peggy Carter over the radio before the line went silent and he was lost for nearly seventy years.

It ended with Steve waking up in New York and, upon realizing the setting of a 1945's recovery room was a fake, racing out of the building and right onto the streets of modern New York, where he was confronted by none other than Nick Fury.

But right at the end of the file was a note, saying that a museum about Captain America and the Howling Commandos had opened up in Washington a couple months ago, and that it would be the perfect place to act as a new secret base.

"A base?" Matt spoke up for the first time in half an hour, pressing a button on the recorder and switching off the blinking red light. "Right under the Captain America museum? Who would be crazy enough to think that would be a good idea?"

"Oh, I don't know," Peter said, leaning back in his chair, "I could probably name a few."

"Think it's those dead octopus people?" asked Deadpool, propping his head up with both fists.

"I'm sorry," said Matt blankly, "I don't speak idiot."

Peter snorted in his hands, trying to stifle his laughter. Wade cocked his head to the side.

"Tambien hablo español."

Matt's lips twitched upwards. "Igual que aquí."

Deadpool looked to Spiderman expectantly, Daredevil tilting his head in his direction. Peter froze, scrambling through his brain to try and remember something from Spanish class. That was usually the class he fell asleep in.

"Me gusta... el, um... queso."

Matt let out a loud snort, shoulders shaking, not bothering to suppress his laughter. Peter's cheeks flamed red under his mask, while Wade nodded seriously, as if he'd just said something awe-inspiring.

"Hmm. Me too, Petey. Me too."

"Okay," Peter muttered, as Matt regained himself. "Seeing as how they've put the base right under the Captain America museum and how it was mentioned between Parker and Hop-Frog's meeting, I'm going to put my bets on HYDRA."

"So what should we do?" asked Matt, leaning back in his seat and crossing his legs, "Go all the way to Washington to check out a base that may or may not be HYDRA _or,_ " he crossed his arms, "We can tell the Avengers everything, let them sort it out and they may or may not actually believe SHIELD is HYDRA."

"Why wouldn't they believe us?" Peter asked, frowning. He'd been afraid of them throwing him out for being too much trouble; it hadn't occurred to him that they might just not believe him.

"You told us that your dad-"

"Parker."

"- _Parker_ took your blood in a restaurant bathroom, right? That you had just frozen? Well, what if the Avengers think something's wrong with you or that you're paranoid about something you can't tell them for whatever reason? What if they think someone's forcing you into getting them to be suspicious about SHIELD?"

Peter was silent, starring at the keyboard in front of him. As much as he didn't want to admit it, Matt was right. If the Avengers think someone's forcing him to tell them these things, who know's what'll happen? Richard might still be trying to recreate the serum, and he will go as far as to test it on babies to get results. And he might have the exact location of a HYDRA base dangling right in front of him. Who knows how many lives could be taken if he does nothing? Spiderman can't let that happen. Neither can Peter.

"I'm not saying you shouldn't trust the Avengers." continued Matt, "They're good people, wanting to do good things, and they want to make you apart of their family. All I'm saying is that sometimes people make the wrong choices when trying to do the right thing."

Spidey closed his eyes, took a deep breath through his nose and let it out slowly through his mouth. He nodded, clenching his fists. He did trust the Avengers, more then he's trusted anyone outside of Gwen and Aunt May, but he's only known them for a couple months. He doesn't know what they'll do if he tells them SHIELD has been made up of HYDRA since it was first created.

"I get it." he said, opening his eyes, "I'm not happy about it, but I get it." Peter looked up, his eyes going from Wade to Matt and back again, "You guys have passports, right?"

"Yeah, when should we- ?"

Peter's spider sense erupted in the back of his skull, and he immediately leaped out of his seat, grabbing Deadpool's arm and pulling him with him, tackling Daredevil to the ground.

That's when the wall exploded.

Peter yelled, the heat of the blast seeping effortlessly through his costume. The laptop crashed next to him, just barely missing his head, the screen cracking and a few keys scattering across the floor. The USB remained intact, the laptop having landed on the opposite side.

Scrambling to his feet, Peter squinted, his robotic eye lenses shrinking and zooming in on the two figures standing in front of the gaping hole in the wall, barely visible through the dust and rubble. His ears were ringing in the aftermath of the explosion, but he seemed unharmed besides a few bruises that won't show themselves until morning.

Matt and Wade were on their feet beside him, batons and katana's drawn and facing the direction of the blast. But then one of the figures was gone, as if they'd never been there at all, and a red aura surrounded the second one. Peter only had a split-second to be surprised before a blur rammed into Wade, sending him flying into the couch.

Peter's eyes widened in realization. He knew who these two were. He'd read about them in one of the files, although he'd only skimmed them, like he'd done with most of the files. And they were a duo he never wanted to meet in battle.

They were the twins Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch.

Not a moment after realizing this, Peter ducked down and snatched the USB out of the laptop, just as the blur returned and sent Matt slamming into the wall.

Peter rolled, taking covered behind the tipped over couch. Wade glanced at him, before looking back towards Scarlet Witch. He whistled. "Well, aren't you a beauty?"

A red blast hit him square in the chest, sending the Mercenary into a closet. He recovered a moment later, hopping to his feet and looking back at Wanda, holding his hands up to shoulder height. "I didn't mean to offend you! I mean, it's not like you're not beautiful or anything, but you are _way_ too young for me. I may have a voice in my head but I am _no_ pervert!"

Pietro slammed into Wade again, sending him into a door and into the hall beyond. He glared at the Merc With A Mouth, an ugly scowl on his face. Wanda turned away from them and to Peter, who quickly ducked behind the couch again with a squeak as a red blast skimmed the top of his head.

Pulling his mask up a bit, Peter shoved the USB into his mouth, forcing himself to swallow it down. He really hopes this works in real life as well as movies and he doesn't have to poop it out. That would be a lot more painful then vomiting it up.

Looking up, he watched as Pietro Maximoff punched Matt in the jaw, sending him to the ground. Multiple objects were hovering in the air, surrounded by the same red aura as Wanda Maximoff. As Wade staggered back into the room, a microwave immediately zoomed towards him, smashing into his chest and breaking his ribs. This was soon followed by a pencil, which went right through Deadpool's eye.

"Here's a lesson, kids," Wade said to the air, "Never call a women beautiful when she's on her period." A ruler went through his stomach.

Turning his attention to Quicksilver, Peter aimed his web-shooters in Matt's direction, waiting. When the speedster briefly appeared to smack the vigilante in the nose, sending him into the table, Peter seized his chance and fired. It latched onto Pietro's shoulder a split second before he zoomed off, jerking Peter's arm right out of its socket and sending him flying into the air at a speed beyond comparison.

Upon realizing there was something on his back, Pietro came to a sudden stop, looking behind him in confusion. With a yell, Peter slammed right into the speedster not unlike how Pietro had done to him not that long before, sending the both of them out through the hole in the wall.

Peter crashed right on top of a car, the roof denting upon impact and his shoulder flaring in agony. Screams erupted around the street, and the people in the dented car quickly scrambled to get out and run away. Sirens were coming closer and closer, and only a few people remained on the street after the explosion.

Shaking his head, he looked around in search of Quicksilver, quickly spotting him slowly getting to his feet a few cars down. Forcing himself into action and ignoring the flaring pain from his cracked ribs and dislocated shoulder, Peter slipped off the car and onto the road, his knees shaking as he steadied himself against the car.

Once he could stand without threat of falling, Peter looked up and locked eyes with Pietro, who gave him a nasty glare. Before Peter could fully register said glare, a blur rushed towards him and a fist slammed into his stomach. Peter fell onto the road, and just as Pietro made to zoom away back to his sister, Spiderman's hand shot out and grabbed his ankle.

With a surprised yell, Quicksilver fell onto the road. Twisting around, he began kicking Peter in the chest with his captured foot, his ribs quickly starting to crack and in danger of breaking. But Peter refused to let go, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain, and, with all of his strength, he twisted his entire body, bending the speedsters ankle the wrong way and rendering it useless with a _snap_.

Pietro yelled, and his fist shot out to hit Peter's nose. Blood trickled from one of his nostrils, seeping into the red fabric of his mask.

Grunting in pain, Peter let go of Maximoff's leg and slammed one of his fists into his stomach. Pietro gave a loud 'oof!', while Peter brought up his other hand and began webbing the speedsters hands to the ground. He quickly did the same to both legs, then his chest, leaving only his head, feet, shoulders and stomach free.

Looking back up to the hole in the Town Hall as Pietro struggled in his bounds, Peter spotted Matt and Wade taking on Scarlet Witch, struggling even with Quicksilver out of the way and it being two against one. He began to make his way in their direction, but the sound of something tearing made him freeze.

Spinning around and his vision momentarily blurring from the action, Peter watched as Pietro freed himself from the webbing, the constant struggle and the freedom of his shoulders aided by his super speed making it give out a lot sooner.

Cursing, Peter lunged forward, but Quicksilver was already a foot away, even with his broken ankle. He shot a bio-cable, which latched onto Pietro's shoulder, and stuck the other end to the ground. Pietro came to a sudden halt like a running puppy reaching the end of its leash, and instead of running forwards he began going around in a circle, wrapping Peter up in his own webbing.

His legs already stuck together, Peter grabbed the bio-cable and spun around, landing on his side painfully but also sending Pietro into an abandoned taxi, the glass smashing and side denting, just as the first cop car rounded the corner.

Once Quicksilver regained himself, he tried to continue wrapping Spidey in his own web, but Spiderman twisted his body and dragged the speedster to the ground. He didn't get up.

A moment later, they were surrounded by the police, and Peter spotted Wanda Maximoff standing in front of the gaping hole. Upon spotting her fallen twin, she encased herself in her red aura and flew down, falling to her knees and cradling her brothers head.

She looked up and glared at Peter, her brown eyes tinged red in anger. Spiderman held up his hands.

"You attacked us." he said, "I don't enjoy hurting anyone; not even bad guys."

For a moment, Scarlet Witch's eyes widened, then softened, before hardening again all in the span of a few seconds. She touched the bio-cable and it vaporized in a flash of red, freeing both Peter and Pietro, before she hauled her twin onto her back and lifted the both of them into the air.

Police began firing, but a red force field protected the twins, and within moments they had gone in a hue of red as Scarlet Witch bolted down the street. Not as fast as Quicksilver, but fast enough so no one could follow.

With a sigh, Peter struggled to his feet, looking up as Daredevil and Deadpool made their way towards him. Matt helped him to his feet, to which he replied with a quiet thanks.

"Who were they?" the older vigilante asked.

"Pietro and Wanda Maximoff." Peter answered, "Also known as Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch. They handed themselves over to HYDRA experimentation to get the ability to get revenge on Tony Stark, because one of his weapons killed their parents."

"File?"

Peter nodded. "File."

"Which one was Wanda?" asked Wade.

"Hey, you!"

Three heads snapped in the direction of the voice. It was an officer, marching towards them with a scowl and a gun. "You're under arrest."

Matt exclaimed, "I object!"

"I don't think that's how it works." Peter muttered.

"He's a lawyer." Wade stage-whispered, as the officer turned bright red with rage, "He knows what he's doing."

"You can't _object_ to being arrested!"

"Says who?" asked Matt.

"Says me!"

"Nice to meet you, Officer Me."

The cop growled, "You destroyed the Town Hall!"

"Ah ha!" Deadpool exclaimed, raising a single finger, "Correction. The Period Twins destroyed the Town Hall."

"The _what?!_ "

"Oliver," one of the other police officers called, "They helped save people. The camera's clearly showed the red and blue ones where behind the attacks. You should be thanking them, not trying to arrest them."

Oliver turned to the other officer and began to splutter, his face tomato red. Matt nudged Peter in the side.

"We should probably get going." he whispered. Peter tapped the older vigilante's leg in agreement, and gestured with his head to Wade that they should go.

The trio in red began to slowly back away, before spinning around and dashing down the street, Peter releasing a web and swinging forward, Wade grabbing one of his legs and Matt grabbing the other. When Oliver turned back around to demand they at least be questioned, they were turning the corner.

* * *

They stopped about a block from Avengers Tower, where Peter and Matt checked out their injuries. Four of his ribs were cracked, thankfully none of them broken, and his shoulder was dislocated, but his nose was only badly bruised. Matt had a broken finger and most likely a cracked collar bone, as well as a light gash across his chest, but it had stopped bleeding a while ago.

Matt popped Spidey's shoulder back into place and told him to get his ribs wrapped up to keep them in place so they don't puncture a lung.

"What happened to the USB? They didn't get it, did they?" Daredevil asked when he was done. Peter grimaced.

"I swallowed it. I'll have to puke it up when I get back."

"Ah. Pleasant."

"So," Wade said, swinging his arms around Peter and Matt's shoulder, surprisingly gentle with Peter's. "I don't exactly do flying. Does anyone have a car we can use?"

"I can't drive for obvious reasons." said Daredevil, "And I'm pretty sure Spidey hasn't passed his drivers test. I am also mildly terrified at the idea of you driving a car. With me in it, no less."

"It'll be _fine_." Wade insisted.

"No," said Peter, "I highly doubt it'll be fine. At _all_. How long does it take to drive from New York to Wasington D.C. anyway? And where would we get a car?"

"It's about a three, maybe five hour drive. Depends if the traffics really bad. And I also think there's tolls." said Matt. Wade shook his head.

"Don't you worry, dinky dums, ol' Wadey will get his hands on a car."

"What am I supposed to tell the Avengers?" asked Peter, "They'd realize that I was gone for a full day, and we might be there longer then that."

"Say you're visiting a relative or something." suggested Matt.

"I've got no relatives to visit. I could say that I'm taking my girlfriend on a date-" Wade wolf whistled, earning a smack from Matt, "But we could be gone a lot longer then a few hours."

"What about you say you got invited to a sleep over?"

"How old do you think I am?"

"Late teens."

"Wha-"

"All heart beats are different, Spidey. I can tell the difference between a child's, a teens and an adults." Daredevil explained. Peter faltered.

"Ah..."

"Don't worry," the older vigilante said hurriedly, "I'm not going to tell anyone one. It's not that big of a deal."

"Anywho," Wade cut in. He pointed to his chest with his thumb, "I'll get the car," he pointed to Matt, "You get the snacks," he pointed to Peter, "And you tell the Avengers that you've been invited to a weekend long slumber party with your best friends Wadey and Mattie. All good? All good!"

"I haven't been going to school for the past month," Peter explained. No point keeping it secret that he was underage anymore. "I think I'm supposed to be going back this week. Wait until next Friday, then we'll go."

"Sounds good." said Matt, "I'll see you around, Spiderman, Deadpool."

Peter shot a bio-cable and began to swing away, while Matt jumped from rooftop to rooftop in the direction of what was most likely his home, leaving Wade waving frantically on top of the building.

"Bye, bye, besties!"

* * *

 **Yeah, 4,493 words without AN's! I'm really sorry for the horribly late update, but my dad's got me into Game of Thrones and I've just watched the first three seasons in a week. Also, my sister and nieces were over for two weeks (really doesn't feel like it's been two weeks).**

 **Anyway, there had been alternate way of which I had thought of for this chapter to end. One was where Peter gets hauled around the city by Pietro and gets a text from Wade saying they've escaped Wanda, and for Peter to meet them tomorrow night. Another one was where Peter still gets hauled around town by Pietro, but passes out in a dumpster and is found by Bucky Barnes. But I've decided that this is after Thor 2 and before the Winter Soldier, so Bucky's still with HYDRA.**

 **Next chapter, Peter returns to school and Steve and Natasha return briefly return from their mission.**


End file.
